Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8 
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on Jun 30, 2014 0:12:14 GMT 1
The walk back to the inn was a heavy one, but at least Gil had snapped out of the fugue he had been entangled in for what must have been days. There was no telling how much money he had spent while stumbling around the city, and even more unpredictable was the amount he had stolen, whether coin or treasure. Pushing his hand through his already ruffled blonde hair, Gilbert tried hard not to think about the girl he had left behind in that dark alley, instead focusing on getting to his room and carefully counting his coin while he decided which road would be best to stalk his newest thread.
Still, as he cut through the crowd like a warm knife through butter, it was hard to leave behind thoughts of this Indi behind completely. By Palandri, what was it that had him so entranced with such a waif? Gilbert wasn't one to seek out someone to warm his bed, even in between jobs, and he could have prettier, if he wanted. Just some small slip of a thing, is all she was, but there was something in her eyes that told Gilbert not to discount Indi completely. Potential was what he saw, somewhere in her, potential to the job that, so far, only he had taken upon himself. Potential to be, possibly, even greater than he was.
"Oh la," Gil muttered under his breathe, catching an odd look or two from the shuffling citizens he slid by. Smirking at their confused glances, he continued to mumble to himself, unlikely to be phased by their attention- They would forget him, easily enough. They always did. "It's no use thinking about it anymore, Gilly. She said no, many a time, and you'll likely never see the creature again. Stop thinking on it and turn your mind to what's in your grasp." Solid advice, even if it did come from himself.
Advice he did not take, though. Instead, with a small gesture at the barkeep once he slipped through the inn's doors, Gil settled into the corner of the inn's first floor, sinking into a contemplative silence as he sipped his way through pints of mead. He didn't often socialize, if you could call this that at all, unwilling to spend much time with those who actually recognized him- And anyone would would recognize him most certainly spent their time in dirty little inns like this one. So they whispered, some of them calling him 'Gilly' and wondering about his brother, though the man had been gone for nigh on six years at this point. The other half of the small crowd only talked about the legend behind his name, and Gil had to stifle the urge to roll his eyes. The Master of the Road, some of them whispered. "A load of cow manure," Gil told the inn keeper's small daughter, the only child in the bar who had not been warned off his company. "I'm hardly a master, and even if I were- the only thing you could call me would be the Master of Lu-"
There was commotion at the door, and Gilbert cut off, standing to stand on his toes and peer over the mass of gossiping drunkards. Someone had stumbled through the door, too fast, apparently, for the highly paranoid patrons of the inn. Their hair all matted, their face red enough there was no way it was going to bruise- "Indi?" Gil couldn't help but let the name tumble out of his mouth, steeped in incredulity. The voices quietened under his. "What happened to you?
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13 
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on Jun 30, 2014 0:43:10 GMT 1
She hated feeling weak. Hated feeling like she didn't have control over her life like she always told herself she did. There was really nothing left to lose for her anymore. At her current juncture in life there was nothing she had that would ruin her or raise her up, just the hope that lingered from Gil. Something she'd never really had before. Growing up how she did, treated how she was, had robbed her of any sort of self-identification. There was nothing she could think of in her life that was purely hers and this man, hardly a man as he seemed to be only a summer or two older than her, this man had given her hope. Indi didn't know who she was, only that she belonged on this planet, and belonged on the road. Gilbert gave her that, and she ran with it.
The faces on the walk to the inn had stung, but not as much as the redness she was so sure would form in to a bruise any moment now did. Her face had been marred by worse before. Her petite frame had scars scattered all over it; some even lingered from when she was a babe but the sources of those went unknown to her. But some she'd sleep and remember a flash of fists, a switch. The flesh of the palm of her hand tingle randomly after a bought of indignation caused one of her elders to hand her a red hot rod rod and command her to hold it until her tears stopped. She'd stutter and hiccup but would find herself back in control of her body sooner or later. She learned that sooner was always better less she wanted the metal in the fire again. That act was something she'd never want to experience again.
Indi was embarrassed and tired but what won out in the end, was just how determined she was to change her life. She could do better. Wash her hair out and brush it through and change her. And now she had the strength to. Upon seeing Gilbert, and only picking up the tone of his voice, she locked eyes with him, her eyes full of defiance and anger, but also peace. She stiffened her jaw and breathed through her nose before speaking, letting it flow out of her for a moment, "I'll light them all on fire," she all but growled out," I swear it. I will engulf them in flames and dance around them. Even if it takes my entire life," she vowed and shifted her pack on her shoulder, "I don't care."
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Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on Jun 30, 2014 2:24:00 GMT 1
When Gilbert's eyes met Indi's, it felt like a flash of fire consumed his body for a moment, rage filling his veins lightning-quick. It was all he could feel, for a moment, rising up in him to meet the fury in her eyes, but he pressed it down just as quick. What would he do with such emotion? Gil was no warrior, and letting his rage overtake him was no good for the weapons he did have at his call. He merely watched her gain control of herself, and when she spoke, he listened, even as Indi's words sent scandalized whispers rippling through the crowd.
Gilbert walked towards Indi, and the patrons of the bar eagerly got out of his way, more inclined to watch this newest bit of drama play out than start a fight they were not sure if they would win. Standing a few feet from her, Gil thought back to their conversation in the alley, of them standing much like this. The atmosphere here was easier, even if it was one of anger, with the desperation of them both thankfully drained from the air around them here. Smiling sharply, Gilbert nodded, sure he could handle this much easier than he had before. "And I will help you," he said, "I swear it to you. They deserve as much, for..." Shuffling towards Indi a few more feet, he raised a hand and pressed the tips of fingers to her abused skin. "For this, and much more, I'm sure."
The grin on Gil's face softened, transformed from the weapon he wielded with far too much ease into something more genuine. "But first, if you will forgive me from staying your revenge, you need a proper meal, and a decent night's sleep." Laughing, Gil nudged her shoulder. "And should it not be too forward for me to say it, perhaps a warm bath, as well." He hesitated, cupping Indi's shoulder under his hand with gentle fingers. "I know- I know you have no reason to trust me anymore than you trust them, at the moment. But let me do at least this, for now, yes? And then we can speak of vengeance, and... And what comes next."
It was difficult, trying to convince someone to let them be taken care of, but Gilbert was determined. He only wanted to do what no one did for him, even though he was sure that he, himself, fourteen and empty inside, would have been just as stubborn towards any charity. Ducking his head to hide his grin, filled now to the brim with irony, Gil straightened. "Barkeep? A glass of toddy, if you have it."
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on Jun 30, 2014 2:53:10 GMT 1
The scattering of people around the pair didn't bother Indi, her anger at the situation causing her to have tunnel vision. But the longer she stood here, the better she started to feel. She knew it would take time for her to develop and figure out who she was, to stop biting her tongue for fear of a lashing or to be deprived even more of food or sleep. It was a future she looked forward to exploring though. A future, one that was hers alone, was something she never planned before. Indi had always figured her life on the road would mean that sooner or later she'd end up with some hellspawn of a child by some accident on the road. Which she'd promptly leave at some temple and never think of again. But she could change that now, she had the power to.
She tired not to flinch or pull back when he went to touch her but it had become so much of a habit to do so when a hand came near her face that she couldn't. She mumbled out an, "I'm sorry. Stings," as an excuse, but she could already tell that Gilbert knew better. Could read the actions of others better than she could currently. His words had dampened the fire inside of her, helping to turn it in to something more controlled. "May Pa'landri herself rain fire on them," she said, her voice strong.
"Oh no, I smell. Believe me, I am well aware." She'd cracked a smile when he spoke of food and sleep, something every part of her body was craving. A decent night's sleep was not something she was able to have very often, Indi being one who would work the streets for most of the day and far in to the night. During the day you get the shoppers, the evening you get the men in the alleys, and at night you cozy yourself up to the men in the bars and inns, more focused on their drinks than their pockets. She'd sulk back in to camp, eat what she could, and sleep a few hours before being woken up rudely to restart the day. "If nothing else, I look forward to no one raising their voice at me before the sun rises."
Trust was something different. Something that she never gave to anyone. But there was something irrational about the moment, "You're right. I have no reason to. But the Gods themselves have guided me here so that must mean something. And for the moment, you have that. And that's all I can give you."
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Gilbert of the Road
Wanderer
'Cause when pushing comes to shove, money conquers faith and love.
Posts: 8
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 117
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Post by Gilbert of the Road on Jul 2, 2014 20:25:31 GMT 1
Gil pulled his hand back quickly, curling it against his chest like her rejection had burned him- Oh, get ahold of yourself, Gilly, you're in public. "My apologies. It will sting like that for some time, I am afraid," Gilbert said, voice rough. He was trying very hard not to focus completely on the red of her face, not make the strike the only thing he saw of her. It was difficult, to be sure, and the swift anger that came upon him every time his eyes brushed past the apple of her cheeks did not help matters. Still- Running off to play hero would do neither one of them any good, and, besides, thieves such as them had no code of honor to call on when an innocent was attacked. They would have to play this a rogue's way, and that way meant it was all entirely up to Indi. Such a small child, though, Gil thought, and then, though perhaps not quite a child, after all. "If you would allow it," Gil said, still afraid of sending her running back into the night without a friend in the world. "I would send for a poultice to reduce the swelling, at least. There's an unaligned healer just two roads down-" He cut himself off, with a small little click of his teeth. "Er. It would make me feel better, and could only help you."
Indi's curse had Gilbert's face growing serious, and he nodded, once, eyes intense with a fierce protectiveness he was sure he hadn't felt in years. "And if the Goddess will not heed your prayers, we shall do it for her," Gilbert said, a joyless grin cutting its way across his face. "I promise you both that much, Indi of the Willows. Right now? Right now, you don't have to trust me. You can, if you want, eventually, I suppose, because I have no call to harm you, but I don't need you to trust me. Right now, I just need you to listen to me."
The tiny barmaid scampered up to Gilbert's side, holding a steaming cup of hot toddy. Gilbert stooped, smile turning soft, this time more genuine than before. "Thank you, small one," he said, taking the cup from her tiny hands. Standing, he held the cup out for Indi, gesturing it so the smell of warmth and sweetness would reach her tired nostrils. "Here, take this. As much as I hate to tell anyone to drink with an emptied stomach, you look chilled to the core. It'll warm you, and by the time we get you cleaned and fed, it'll have you calm enough to sleep." He opened his mouth to speak again, but there was too much happening around them, too many eager eyes and ears, still, so he nodded, and set himself into action, his broad movements and single-minded determination suddenly being set to something besides robbery. "Alright, that's quite enough chatter," Gilbert said, loud enough for the entire bar to hear him call an end to the nonsense. "You're going to let Aggie here show you to my room and get you warm enough to feel human again, and I'm going to call for a poultice and something to eat that doesn't taste of ale." And something decent for you to wear, Gilbert didn't say, but it sat on the edge of his tongue, too sharp to be anything but vanity.
He disappeared into the small crowd, leaving the girls to it as he settled this and that, calling in favours and throwing out coin for the small assortment of items he figured Indi would need immediately. The food on it's way, and the ingredients for the poultice now in a small pouch on his belt- I just paid how much for potatoes and mugwort?, Gil had thought, in a daze -Gilbert finally headed up the stairs, hands nervous against the barrister. "Erm. Knock knock?" he called at the door, wondering how exactly he had gotten so far in life to only make an ass of himself now.
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Indi Willows
Wanderer
My ghost, where'd you go?
Posts: 13
Race: Mundane
Primary Class: Rogue
Primary Level: 1
Soul Points: 73
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Post by Indi Willows on Jul 2, 2014 21:24:02 GMT 1
Indi looked around the room, suddenly insecure of herself, but more suspicious of the folk who surrounded her. If she tried she could probably pick out faces of people whose pockets she'd dipped her fingers in to. "It's not my first time," she said, her voice soft like she was speaking from a different world. Her own fingers went to her face to lightly brush the skin there, testing the tenderness, "Not nearly as bad as some times before, but we all have our scars." Just because Indi had stories to tell, and memories lacing the muscles of her body, does not mean she never left her mark. She blonde could recall of a mark left on the hand of Maerwynn, the woman who 'adopted' Indi, from a time when the girl lashed out and bit her, drawing blood. The woman recoiled and said that she should have left Indi to the beasts of Thorion, because clearly there was a part of them inside of her. For as long as she could remember, there was always a spark of anger inside of her. Her hatred of the world and the cards she was dealt fueling it, and right now the hunger that would only be sated by hunting them down threatened to overtake her mind. It wouldn't feel as good if she did it right now than if she waited and planned it out and bide her time correctly. "It would make you feel better?" Indi laughed, clipped and stilted like she wasn't use to the act, "I am not some child you picked up off the street, to do your good deed and drop off at the door of the nearest home," she stepped back a step and settled herself before speaking again, her words failing her, every muscle in her body telling her to just drop it all and run. "But I.. thank you. "
His words didn't help, nor did they hinder. They just slid past her ears and set to rest at the base of her heart. No one had ever ever made attempts to care about her, she was merely a girl cast out by the world and here Gil was, vowing along side of her. She nodded as he spoke, not even knowing if she could trust anyone. Indi couldn't even say she trusted the bandits who raised her, just blind acceptance of the world she was handed. She wasn't sure what to say to him as he spoke, as he handed her the cup. It was all just very overwhelming to her. In a few simple acts he had already shown that he cared more about a stranger than anyone who actually knew her. She'd always questioned if it was even worth anyone's time. To anyone else she just looked like a street urchin begging for change of all sorts. Indi nodded again, letting out a cracked, "Thank you" to Gil and to the woman already ushering her past people.
The cup was barely even cold enough to drink before Indi found herself having a armful of clothing, struggling to hold it and drink. It wasn't even that cold in the city, but everything was magnified when everything else was shrinking. Indi had never said 'Thank you' so much in her life before then, smiling to herself each time because just because she was raised by the wilds, didn't mean she was raised without manners. She'd learn early that a good and easy way to get what you want is to act as if you didn't feel like you were at the edge of a cliff every day. She'd just managed to wash and change when she heard a voice muffled by a door. In a few short strides, she opened the door and smirked, "It's quite odd having to announce oneself in to their own room," she spoke as she moved to let the door open wider for him. She didn't touch anything, barely felt comfortable enough to clean and change because of how overcome she was. It wasn't like someone like her to trust anyone who did the same, so she'd understand if he felt uneasy about it, but she was unable to tell anything about it.
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