• Solo • The Eloquoi

[Quio]

11th of Saun, Arc 716
dawn

The city was not at all what Quio was expecting.

When they docked the ship, all seemed... off. Tense. They were given odd looks as they wrestled the chickens from the hold. Even Hart was unusually quiet, looking around with bright blue eyes that were almost wary.

Quio felt the first stirrings of unease.

"Maybe we should stay with the boat," he said, right as Hart said, "I have a strange feeling about this." Hart looked at him, serious. Shook his head, mouth pressed tight. Chicken tucked into his arms, he waltzed over to the nearest dockworker. They spoke briefly, clasped hands to shake, spoke some more. Quio struggled to keep the two angry chickens he was holding under control.

Shortly Hart came back over. "There's a war," he said in lowered tones. "We picked a hell of a time --hell, literally-- to come to the city."

"Venora, then?" Quio asked. "Burhan?"

"Neither," Hart said, grim. "Krome's burning any foreign ships that sail the Zor. And Venora is housing the rebel army."

"We could turn around and leave. Go someplace else, anywhere else," Quio said, nodding, already turning to head back to the ship. But Hart took his arm, shaking his head again.

"We'd need supplies to do that. We're already here. I think... so far the city is safe. And it has large walls to protect its people. I do know how you hate walls, but..." Hart gave him a wan smile. "I think we do as Andaris does and ride out the worst of it."

"We could stock up quickly, get out--" Quio insisted, but Hart was looking at him in that way he had, and Quio muttered, "What is it?"

"I just have a bad feeling," the seaborn said. He glanced over his shoulder like he expected there to be someone behind him. Quio followed his gaze, eyes landing upon the Jovy Akor where it was tied and anchored. Despite the heat of the sun radiating into his body, he felt a chill. "She'll be fine," Hart said softly, "And for us the city will be safer than... out here." He set his expression. "Come'on, it's a dizzying hike and we want to get there before nightfall."

---

Walking on land was always like walking with legs that had no knees, or maybe too many. The Yludih rocked as he walked; it felt like the stone that formed his core had melted and turned into water. The hills in the distance seemed to roll in the corners of his eyes like the tides of the sea. "Boy did I miss land," he said, and in front of him Hart puffed out a breath of laughter.

"You look drunk."

Quio kicked out at his companion with one foot. Mistake. He lost what little balance he had and nearly spilt himself to the cobblestones below. The two chickens in his arms used this slip as an excuse to act up, squawking and beating their wings in his face. Hart laughed louder, nimbly avoiding another kick.

---

Their temporary good mood soured as soon as they reached the city gates. They were stopped and questioned by suspicious-eyed guards who held the hilts of their weapons a bit too tight. Quio stumbled through his answers in Common, "Ruq Qy'ihadi. Just... through? Chickens? No, ours, not--"

Hart, as always, delivered perfect, rapid answers that, after inspection, seemed sufficient for the both of them. The guards looked at one another and grumpily stood aside.

The city was... difficult to navigate. The atmosphere was distrusting of outsiders. In their Biqaj gear they just looked like travelers, but who knew who could be spies or traitors. Vaguely they wandered through street after street, feet dragging, having marched to the city for the whole of the trial and then some with little rest.

Eventually they found a place to ask directions, a brothel named the House of Roses (and where else would Hart's nose point him? Quio rolled his eyes as soon as they stepped inside). The girls there were overly helpful, cloying in their attentions. They pointed the way to a place to stay, Ye Olde Inn. "Aptly named," Hart said, and received a chorus of giggles much louder and longer than was necessary. Quio struggled to drag him back out the door. "Well, at least they're pleasant still," Hart said, once they were outside and on their way. "Such bravery to laugh in the face of war." If Quio rolled his eyes any harder he would fall over.

Ye Olde Inn was a simple enough place to find and remarkably easy on the eyes for what it was. With such a name, Quio had expected something more worn, perhaps even ramshackle. Leaky, definitely. But the place looked... nice. He and Hart went to the front desk and ordered a room for an extended stay, betting on the price reduction. "Just one room?" the woman asked, eyeing them up, and Quio stammered while Hart remained unabashed. "Just one room, then," she said, "It'll be on the third floor. No chickens allowed."

"Where can the chickens go?"

"We have a stables for rent. I mean, it's for horses, but..."

"Stables, uh... need house--"

"Stall," Hart said helpfully.

"--stall, please," Quio said, and at her request handed over the dagger at his belt.

"Would you take care of these chickens?" Hart asked with a smile, and the girl gave him a dubious look before sighing. She summoned over another of the wait staff to take the ones in Quio's arms.

At the sight of the staircase winding one floor, two high, Hart said with false cheer, "Great, stairs!" They made the somewhat torturous climb to their room. Quio felt on the brink of collapsing by the time they reached their door. His legs trembled like they might crack and shatter apart.

There was nothing to do at the end of the trial but stuff their faces with some of their last dried rations and fall into bed. Hart tucked his head under Quio's chin even in the unbearable heat, winding an arm over his belly, and they slept.

Off Topic

rented a good-quality room at Ye Olde Inn, -2sn/night x 29 nights = -5.8gn
rented a stable stall at Ye Olde Inn, -5cn/night x 29 nights = -1.4.5gn
= TOTAL -7.2.5gn rent

"Speaking in Rakahi" "Speaking in Common" "Speaking in Ulehi"

[Quio]

17th of Saun
early morning

The next few days passed in a jumble. Quio had left the city, gone back to the docks, leaving Hart behind. But Hart was with him now again, had made the long trek out to surprise him. Perhaps with the war on he hadn't wanted to sleep alone.

The Yludih swooped down the ladder to the cabin of the Blackheart --the ship that he and Hart had come to screaming terms over just yesterday night-- and immediately said, "So I forgot to tell you, but I got a job."

"How fancy," Hart replied. His tone was light, so it sounded like he was done fighting. Now he was lying on one of the little ship's beds fiddling with some string and a couple of plain-looking rocks. No doubt a necklace or bracelet for someone, though the stones weren't as pretty as they usually were.

"It's for the rest of this cycle, minimum," Quio said apologetically, and Hart's brow crinkled, but he blew out a sigh and nodded. For them, a season's work on land was a long time.

"So? What's the verdict?"

"Funny you should say," Quio said. He tried to get it over quickly. "I'm to be a lawyer. Well." He was resolutely staring at the ceiling. "More like apprentice lawyer, but--"

"A lawyer?" Hart interrupted, incredulous, and sprung up giddily from the bed. Quio couldn't look at him. There was laughter in Hart's voice. "A Biqaj lawyer? What were they thinking? Do you know anything about the law?"

"They were desperate," Quio admitted, and Hart clapped him on the shoulder before grabbing his hand and pumping it up and down, a parody of a handshake. He bent and kissed it like one does a lady and Quio looked down in time to see him flutter his eyes.

"Lawyer! Well, your Honor--"

He was tackled to the floor before he could finish.

"Stop it!" Hart cried, but Quio had him in a headlock and he had to gasp out the words he was laughing so hard. "Stop all this clunking around, you'll sink the ship! And what will our neighbors think? Oh, revered one! A lawyer!"

---

"We don't have any money," Quio was complaining, but Hart was unrelentless. They were meandering along the docks, the backs of their hands brushing as they swung back and forth.

Irene Davies --the woman at the law office-- had said that if he was to be associated with the firm, even for a short time, then he would be expected to dress the part. His own clothes would do for now, but he'd gotten the idea that at the earliest convenience --his first paycheck, likely-- he should buy a proper suit.

Hart had been delighted to hear the news.

"Doesn't mean we can't dream," the half-Biqaj said for the nth time, and grabbed Quio by the hand and dragged him forward. "Though I wonder-- when I was in the city before, I didn't notice a clothing shop. Where do people buy their clothes here?" the sailor asked Quio, as if he would know. "Or no-- you don't think the people here all make their clothes?" he considered, horrified.

"I'm sure there's somewhere and you just missed it. Now will you let me go?"

"So you can run off and avoid talking fashion?" His cohort tutted at him knowingly. "I think not."

"Red," he had said earlier, when he first heard that Quio would have to wear a suit. Quio had given him a look. "Okay, burgundy. You can't say wine is not classy. It'll make you stand out. Why these people --especially the men-- are obsessed with yellow I'll never know. Gold I can see. But yellow?"

"Yellow is delicate. Gold is obnoxious, and wine... wine isn't classy," Quio countered.

"Okay, well, you're not wearing black. However, a tux..."

"A tux is not appropriate," Quio objected. "I'm not wearing a tux." He didn't have to say ever-- Hart heard it regardless. The Biqaj dropped it.

"Well at least a bow tie?" His voice crackled with humor, but despite it Quio could tell he was actually excited about getting Quio all dressed up. It didn't happen often. Hart went to parties; Quio was a homebody. "No? Fine, an ascot then, a nice one, not a tie. I mean at least some Biqaj somewhere probably wore an ascot before," he said thoughtfully.

"Maybe," Quio replied. He, on the other hand, was not interested in the conversation except in shooting down Hart's more ridiculous ideas. A suit was a suit was a suit, unless it was periwinkle, or white, or immortals-help-him paisley. Then it was laughable.

"So not black," Hart said. "Not grey, that's so drab. Well, grey satin..."

"A satin suit?" Quio's tone implied his distaste.

"Maybe not."

"Definitely not."

"I really think you should go with burgundy. Burgundy with a waistcoat," Hart sighed, and then said brightly, "Or maybe a nice blue would do... Blue with a lovely little flower pinned to the lapel..."

The only problem was that Hart wouldn't let it go, despite them being miles from the nearest clothing store. And not like they even needed the suit yet, but Hart was determined to discuss it. Probably because of how much Quio didn't want to.

At least it was nice to be out. The city --and its surrounding areas-- seemed to have warmed somewhat within the last few trials. It was already hot enough, blisteringly so, but really the people, after one got past the mistrust caused by the war, were kind. For how long Hart had had his hand clasped over Quio's now, no one was giving them second looks, so there was that, at least.

That was, until they turned to walk back along the docks and Quio happened to look up and saw a woman staring at them.

She was young, around their age, with long reddish hair and incredibly cold eyes. It was the eyes that got him. Quio had only glanced past her before; now he looked back again, but she was gone.

Still, she had seemed extremely unfriendly, a standout in the rest of the crowd.

Frowning, Quio tried to forget the look --the hostility-- on her face. For some reason, though, he couldn't; he felt it had been directed specifically at him.

"Speaking in Rakahi" "Speaking in Common" "Speaking in Ulehi"

[Quio]

It was night and Hart had gone 'out' --to fuck one of the neighbors-- and Quio had turned down an invitation to come along. He himself had been out on the boat in the morning, trying to get used to the Andaris tides. Then for lunch he'd gone down the shore with the net and --with the help of an elderly fisherman-- had caught a few fish that they'd spitted and toasted over the fire. Now he came home, body tired with the day's happenings, and all he wanted to do was fall into bed--

But there was a person there, and automatically he thought Hart.

But that person was not Hart.

Quio stopped and took a step back towards the ladder he'd descended, startled. He remembered this person. The woman with the cold eyes.

"What--" he started to say, but she overrode him with one word, slow and deliberate, "Eloquoi."

Suddenly Quio felt like he was spiraling. He slammed his back to the ladder behind him, the hatch above clattering shut and almost knocking him in the head. From there, pressed as far away from her as he could be, he watched the woman. Afraid of what she knew about him. How could she know that word?

"Who are you?" he started to ask, but then answered himself immediately, not believing it, "Yanaqi?"

"Don't say that name," the woman hissed, and Quio barely recognized her.

Yanaqi. It was Yanaqi. Yana. It was his sister.

"What happened to you?" He couldn't help but ask.

The last he had seen her was-- when? It had been a rushed goodbye, the end of a bad day; the first of many. How old had they been then? Eleven? Ten? Less? Just children. Back then they had been siblings --well, half-siblings-- and they had been friends of a sort, though they had rarely seen each other. Yanaqi had been his only friend, in fact, before he met Jessa-- and even Jessa didn't count. So she'd been his only friend before he met Hart.

What he remembered of Yana he remembered in broad terms just because it had been so long. But what he remembered wasn't this. She had been soft on him. Tender, as if afraid of breaking him, as if he was made of glass. From what he remembered she had been proud to be a sister. A big sister. To have someone to tend to.

Nothing like the person who now sat before him. Yanaqi stared at him and he could feel her hate probing at his face with every look. "Eloquoi," she said again, her mouth folding viciously around the word, and he wanted to cover his ears.

"Don't say that."

"Just answering your question. You did ask what happened to me," the woman said. Her smile was all teeth and anger.

"What... happened," he said again, trying to make sense of it, how the child he remembered had turned into this, and she seemed to take it as a repetition of his question.

"Ten long years, brother. I have to hand it to you. You made it look so easy, being the Eloquoi. On me father was much harder. He was easily displeased. He had already lost one successor, after all. I had to be perfect."

Their father. His father. Quio was trying to understand. What did he remember? His father had been aloof. Commanding. Expectant. But not cruel. "What did he do to you?" he asked, because he couldn't fathom it.

"Enough." She wasn't saying more. "But that's behind me now. Father's dead--"

Dead?

"--and I have found you."

"Go away," he said. Something about her was frightening. "Get off this ship. Please, just go away."

"I will never leave you again," she said through her teeth, and he believed her.

This was his ship. Hart's. But if she wouldn't leave... he would. Find Hart. Figure something out, how to get her to go--

But Yanaqi was not finished. "Pretty boy toy you have here," she said idly. "Is that why you betrayed us?" She sounded even more angry than before.

"Leave him out of this," Quio said.

"So it is," she answered, and looked at him. After a moment she rolled her eyes. "Ugh, love. You think you love him. Don't make me sick, he's a human."

"Biqaj," he corrected out of habit.

"Whatever," she said, "He's not one of us. I suppose you killed your mother to be with him?"

His mother. Fire, angry men, being lost. "No. I didn't."

"Then what? You left her to die, found the first pretty boy--"

"No!" he said again, this time stronger.

Suddenly she was up on her feet, off the bed and right in front of him, and he thought she was going to attack him. He had nowhere to go and he didn't want to fight her. Her hand was raised, and it hovered there, threatening, above his head. But she didn't bring it down. It was a close thing. Eventually she backed off and retreated back to the bed, sitting primly as if she hadn't moved.

"You will resume your studies," she said evenly. "I will be your teacher in father's place. You have a lot of catching up to do, Eloquoi. I expect you to be diligent. Luckily, I am here to help you --will always be here-- so you need not worry. You will learn a lot." She smiled, this time without the fangs.

"No," he said again, but didn't dare raise his voice. "I don't want to."

"You will leave your plaything and resume your old life away from people--"

"No."

"You will do what I say or I will not hesitate to hurt him."

"You wouldn't."

"It wouldn't be hard," she said. "He's so trusting. I talked to him earlier."

Quio stared at her.

"We came back here, you were off somewhere..."

"You didn't."

"I see why you like him." She smiled.

"No. You wouldn't. Yana--"

"Do not say that name," she snarled for the second time. "If you must call me something, call me Fara."

"Fara," he repeated, just to appease her, and then he said, "Where is Hart?" He hadn't actually seen him leave for the neighbor's. He could be anywhere. Yana could have already done something. Could have already hurt him.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, unconcerned. "Off fucking some whore, probably. Don't worry, silly boy, I haven't hurt him. Though to think-- what I could do to him, if I wanted. You understand don't you?"

For an instant he saw past her face. As if he could have forgotten. She wasn't human. She was crystal. Yludih. If she had trained as the Eloquoi, then she probably had many forms... and this Yana was a predator, all nails and teeth. "Bear, wolf, alligator, lion, wild dog," she said, listing off. Any one of those could rip Hart apart. He would be eaten alive.

This had to stop before it begun. "Yana--" Shit. She looked ready to spit at him. "No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I meant Fara. Fara, please. Just quit it."

"So you'll come with me then?"

He dreaded the words. "I..." He wanted to say yes. He wanted to badly. He wanted to say it as sincerely as he absolutely didn't. Finally he said, struggling with himself, "I can't. Don't you see?"

"Then I hope you don't too badly like his pretty face," she said offhand. "Or his pretty life."

At this she moved again, starting to get up as if to leave, and Quio stepped forward and grabbed her arm, stopping her. She looked at him and he felt little more than a child. "Please," he asked, because there was nothing else he could do. He stared down at her feet. "Please."

For a long moment he could not tell if he had invoked her fury or simply her contempt. But eventually his sister touched his cheek, softly. It reminded him of his mother. Of the past.

He still couldn't meet her eyes.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked him, exasperated. "It's so highly... abnormal... for one of us to be like you. You've become weak, brother... so weak, that I suppose you would only whine and cry and try to get back to him day and night if I took either of you away from the other. Am I right?"

He didn't respond, didn't nod or deny, but she seemed to take his silence as a yes. She sighed.

"First, get your hands off me." He immediately released her arm. She sighed again. "Very well then, here's what we'll do. You can stay with your friend --for now-- and play house. You can pretend like you aren't what you are." She looked at him hard. "But I will be here too. I will not lose you again. You will resume your studies --whatever subjects I deem fit-- and you will not complain. And when the time comes you will come away with me, and we will go away from these human walls and cities, and you will leave your Hart behind."

Quio felt an objection rising in his throat but his sister shushed him before he could get the words out. "You will determine how long it takes to learn," she said, emphasis on the you. "That is entirely your prerogative, limited only by your ability. It could be a couple weeks out in the wilds or it could be an arc. As long as you learn, though, I could care less how long it takes." She shrugged.

"And if I don't?" he asked.

"I think you know." Yanaqi grinned. "Brother. Make things easy and just dump him now. Then at least he'd be safe."

Quio paused, then slowly shook his head.

"Well then," the crystal woman said primly, and hooked her arm in his. "Might as well get started."

"Now?" he asked, incredulous, tired.

"Now," she replied.

"Okay," he said dully.

"And don't forget to feed Jack," his sister said, over her shoulder, as she slipped past him and climbed the ladder back to the ship's desk.

"Jack?"

"Your new dog. You need something to study off of, after all." And then she was gone, waiting above.

Quio looked around.

There was a dog in the ship's cabin, a little quiet thing he hadn't noticed before, laying its head and paws on one of the sacks of chicken grain they used as cushions in the kitchen area. "Jack?" he asked, and the dog raised its head and wagged its tail.

"But I don't have any dog food," he muttered, looking at the little animal. After a moment, he sighed.

"Well, Jack, I hope you like fish."

"Speaking in Rakahi" "Speaking in Common" "Speaking in Ulehi"

[Pegasus]

Quio

Points!:

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 0/ 5 (solo thread)
Structure: 5/ 5

Knowledge:

Andaris: There's a war
Andaris: Large walls to protect the city
Andaris: Seem distrusting of strangers
Andaris: Difficult to navigate
Location: The House of Roses
Location: Ye Olde Inn
Ye Olde Inn: Nicer than you'd think
Krome: Burning any ships that sail the Zor
Venora: Housing the rebel army
Yanaqi: Cold eyes, cold heart?
Yanaqi: Wants you to resume your studies
Yanaqi: Threatened to hurt Hart
Yanaqi: Call her Fara
Yanaqi: Thinks you're weak
Yanaqi: Always watching
Father: Yanaqi says he's dead
Jack: Your new dog
Cosmetology: Colour combinations matter for professional dress

Loot:

+1 dog called Jack

Fame:

NA

Overview:

General comments. Thank you for dealing with all ledger purchases! An insight into Quio and I really don't like his sister, so obviously you've written her really well. I felt very sorry for Quio, to be (or feel he is) helpless in the face of her threatening his love. I look forward to her getting her comeuppance!
Story ~ all good, fast paced, no issues.
Structure ~ all good, easy to read and cohesive.


Please do PM me if you've got any questions
Thanks!