Traces [Open]

[comatose]

The sign was wrong. Skaa workers bustled up and down ladders, painting walls, repairing shutters, and replacing windows, all oblivious to the fact that they had put up the wrong sign.

Channerel Rooms & Suites, it read. In the background they had painted a black and white map of Luthadel, with the river highlighted in blue, and the location of the hotel marked it with bright red star.

What's wrong with them? This was The Devinshae, the most lavish of her family's Luthadel hotels. The old sign had been an exsquisite work, wrought of gold and silver, with alcoves behind it were limelight could be placed. The windows had been made of stained glass worthy enough for be placed in any keep. The workers had taken those out though. They'd taken down the beautiful sign, removed the one of a kind furniture, likely in order to sell it. The apex of if her family's empire had been dismantled, digested, and spat back out in a form that was almost entirely unrecognizable.

It's the cost Chella realized. The Devinshae in Luthadel had been a work of art. Every room filled with luxurious furniture and one of a kind works of art. No two rooms were even close to being the same. Even now, Chella could remember the names of the most famous: The Iron Room, overlooking the Iron Gate, The River Room, with it's beautiful blue walls and view of the city. And, most of all, The Ruler's Lounge, where only heads of the most influential noble houses were allowed to stay. Each room had been a work of art, and now they were gone, their unique items sold off for coin, and replaced by mass produced beds that lined up just right with matching end tables.

She supposed she couldn't blame The Devinshae's new owner. House Wars were expensive, and this was a long one. Sacrifices had to be made, and what did a hotel like the Devinshae mean to some faceless house lord, compared to food and weapons for his soldiers, and more skaa to use as thralls?

Part of her ached to enter, to see the familiar halls one more time. Even if they changed the furnishings, surely the halls would be the same. The beautiful lobby with its vaulted ceiling? They couldn't take that away, could they? It would be nice to be in a familiar space again. Keep Hasting was her refuge, but it would never be her home. She remembered long afternoons closeted with her friends in one of the unused rooms, sipping tea, gossiping, and discussing the men in their lives. It seemed like another time to her.
She wondered if her friends still met, or if they had drifted apart without her to hold them together. They all seemed so different now, so full of ambitions and schemes.

They've grown up she realized. Perhaps it's time that I did too. Sighing, Chella went on her way, making sure her parasol was keeping the ash of her dress. She hadn't been able to pack anything the night of the raid, and everything she'd gotten since had been gifts from the Hastings. She couldn't afford to ruin one of the few dresses she had. Looking in there would have only made me angry anyways. As she turned the corner, Chella looked back on last time, as one of the last vestiges of her old life was taken apart and transformed into something new, leaving barely a trace of what had been.

[Ruin]

I’m blending in so you won’t even know me
Apart from this whole world that shares my fate

A bar, that’s what he needed. Another good bar. His last one had been attacked by a thieving crew last week and was now… dead. He was lucky he hadn’t been there that night, having passed out at the shop after finishing a new dress design for Turner. Of course he hadn’t exactly thanked Turner for making him work harder but he was grateful that his puny little life had been spared from a possibly gruesome end.

Al turned back to his search, ignoring the ash floating down gently from the sky. This time he wanted a more sophisticated one, still cheap of course, but less of the skaa workers than his last one had; they always looked at him suspiciously and the glares he received were only forgotten after quite a few drinks. Several of the best bars were in the Hotel District so Al had decided to start his search here. Sadly, this meant he was standing far above the flowing crowds of skaa in his perfectly tailored black suit and polished shoes. In fact some of the skaa around him scurried out of his way with downcast eyes and pressed lips, thinking he was a noble. Al just ignored this and slouched even more, hands in his pockets, head down, avoiding eye-contact.

It’s best to just act normal Al thought to himself. Just be inconspicuous and blend in. Al’s mantra, his code of life, his philosophy for surviving… failed him as it always did. A single rock, a pebble really, sent his arms spinning forward in an attempt to regain balance. In a way it was lucky he was near the corner of the street because it generally meant something to hold on to. However the ash that had collected in a pile against the wall and this mound was precisely where Al landed.

The cloud of ash that engulfed him stung his eyes and constricted his throat, but worst of all it landed all over his suit. The perfectly tailored jacket was one of his favorites and now the ash would be almost impossible to get off. After a few seconds of coughing and waving his hand in front of his face to clear the ash Al opened his eyes. He barely contained the curses that sprung to mind. A noble lady had been at the corner right when he had stepped in the ash. Why, why, why, why, why? It was just his luck of course but he had to do something.

“A-are you alright? I’m so sorry about this.” Al said sincerely. He really was sorry. But he was more focused on hoping this wasn’t the type of noble to behead skaa for the smallest of inconveniences.

Lyrics from Be My Escape by Relient K

OOC: Sorry it took so long. IE hates me and I had night class.

[comatose]

Chella walked around the corner and came face to face with a cloud of ash. My dress! The thought was lost as the ash entered her eyes and mouth. Coughing and spluttering, she stumbled backwards, nearly losing her balance. After fumbling for what seemed like an eternity up her sleeve for her handkerchief, Chella managed to clear the ash from her eyes and face and asses the damage.

Her dress had a light dusting of ash all over the front, but it was especially well coated around the hem. While the damage was not to extensive, she wouldn't be able to wear the dress in public again without looking like a beggar. What was she to do? She knew her position was precarious. The Hastings were supporting her entirely, and their only motive in doing so was to gain the support of the few Devinshae allies and sympathizers who had not fled the dominance. She was entirely in the power, and dependent on them for everything, and she hated it. Now she'd have to ask Lord Hasting for a new dress, and likely explain how this one had been spoiled. Chella wasn't sure she would be able to stand the humiliation.

Raising her eyes, she saw the cause of her distress.

The man was uttering some sort of apology. His hair was black as coal and quite unruly at the moment. He was also covered in ash from head to foot. Underneath, however, he wore a a fashionable suit and shoes. Chella frowned. As daughter of the head of house, her dealings with skaa servants had been minimal, however she had never heard of one who dressed as well as this man. Could he be noble? What noble would be caught dead covered in ash though? Carefully, Chella did her best to swallow her anger. She didn't know who this man was... perhaps she could use this accident to her advantage. Lord Ruler knew, she needed all the friends she could get.

"I'm alright," she said hesitantly, trying not to meet the man's eyes. "My dress has seen better days though. I suppose it will have to be replaced." Please, she thought, For once in my life, don't let me lose my temper! Part of her wanted desperately to lash out at the man, and vent her frustrations on him. No, I have leverage over him now. If I get angry and do something foolish, I might lose it.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her gaze to look the man in the eye. When she spoke, she tried her best to keep her voice level and calm, but she wasn't entirely sure she had succeeded. "At least it's not as bad as your suit."

[Ruin]

Now I'm full of guilt and shame
I can't point a finger cause theres no one to blame

The moment he saw the lady, of course he had to look down because of his height, he felt an overwhelming guilt. It had been an accident of course but Al still felt personally responsible for the cloud of ash that had covered her from blond curls to dainty shoes. The ash that clung to the hem of the dress along with the light dusting covering the rest of the dress would make it impossible to wear again. The lady avoided his eyes at first and Al was worried that he would suffer punishment for his mistake and started thinking frantically. It was a mistake. It’s not that bad right? Surely they wouldn’t kill me for an ash cloud… But once she spoke he felt relief spread through him, mixed with an even larger sense of guilt than before, after all he had ruined her dress.

When his suit was mentioned he looked at it again and grimaced. It certainly was worse than the dress but that was simply because he had been directly in the cloud his foot had made. The dress was by far more important than one of his suits. A dress showed a lady’s identity and standing in society, it could show her wealth, her sense of style and even her personality as long as she had a good dress maker. Suits were more replaceable, showed far less style and most were identical to each other.

There was only one solution to this problem, Al would replace her dress. Now to think of the best way to offer. Tact had never been his strong suit, especially in situations like this when he needed it. If he insulted her it could end badly but he couldn’t just leave her with a ruined dress. In attempt to be “tactful” with his words Al spoke carefully and politely, “M’lady. Since this is all due to an accident I caused, please allow me to replace the dress for you.” That’s good right? That’s what someone would say? That was tactful… right?

Lyrics by Be Free by Papa Roach

[comatose]

At the mention of a new dress, Chella's face brightened instantly. She'd actually done it! Now there was no need to trouble Lord Hasting. He must be a noble she thought, looking at the nervous man in front of her. He didn't act like a noble, but what skaa would have the capital to replace a dress on the spot?

"That would be wonderful. Thank-you so much... Lord..." Chella suddenly realized in her worry about the gown, she had completely forgotten to ask the man his name. "How silly of me," she continued after a moment of awkward silence, her cheeks growing red. "I forgot to introduce myself. I am Lady Chella Devinshae, and am very pleased to meet your acquaintance."

[Ruin]

Please don't go crazy,
If I tell you the truth

Now this was a situation. She thought he was a noble. Based on both his height and dress he could see why but what was he supposed to do about it? Correcting her would probably make her feel foolish, her cheeks were already red. But playing along for his own safety might get him in a world of trouble when she found out… however he was much to honest for lying so why not just avoid the question?

At her name Al became interested. He had heard the name before but he couldn’t exactly remember where. The only person he could have heard a noble’s name from was Turner so that meant she had something to do with... well something. Probably the House War knowing Turner who was always talking about the allies and enemies and who was who, even if Al wasn’t paying attention to him.

When she finished introducing herself Al was thankful for Turner’s instructions in manners. He bowed respectfully and said “Lady Devinshae it is always a pleasure to meet such a lovely woman. No matter how…” How did one describe their situation? Disastrous. An accident. Terrifying. “…disastrous it has been for our clothing.” There we go that was good. Very proper and polite. Now what? Oh right my name…

He only hesitated a moment before speaking. “I’m Alphonze. Just Al if you like M’lady” Hopefully she wouldn’t care too much about him being skaa. Turning his thoughts back to the dress Al contemplated the time. Turner would be out right now and when both Al and Turner were gone the seamstresses left early. Meaning the shop was completely empty right now. He could make the perfect dress for the Lady Devinshae in just a few minutes by altering one of the pre made ones. He could make her shine! Eager to make it up to the noble lady he offered his arm and said, “I know just the place to get you a dress.”

Lyrics from How to Be Dead by Snow Patrol

[comatose]

M'lady. When was the last time she'd heard that from someone who was not a servant? Ever since the fall of her house, she was so lowly ranked she had to pay her respects to everyone, and it seemed like no one ever had to do the same to her. Alphonze's formal address, however, brought with it a question. What made him think she was more highly ranked than he? Her dress was finely made, but not exquisite, and she was walking. A highly ranked noble would be able to afford a carriage. Perhaps he was merely trying to make of for the dress.

A chilling thought occured to Chella. What if he'd recognized her house name? Of course he had. The fall of the Devinshaes had been big news throughout Luthadel. Of course event he lesser nobility would have heard of it. Why, even the skaa likely knew, for it wasn't every day a great house fell. Could Alphonze be mocking her? Giving her the honorific in order to highlight her fall from grace?

Looking at the man in front of her, Chella tried to assess his character. He didn't seem cruel. His tone didn't seem to have any hint of sarcasm. Actually, he seemed quite earnest, eager to please her. Perhaps he's like me, she thought, So used to being on the bottom, he just assumes everyone is his equal. Could it be she'd found the only true gentleman in Luthadel?

Chella also noticed Alphonze had refrained from giving her the name of his house. Was he ashamed of his house's low standing, or was he from a Great House, and didn't want to brag and embarrass her? Chella was beginning to realize she didn't know what to think any more. The important thing was, there was a dress waiting for her. Perhaps she could find out more about Alphonze on the way.

"Why then lead the way," she said, trying her best to smile sweetly despite her insecurities. "I'm so excited, Lord Alphonze. I think this little shopping trip may make my day. Perhaps while we're there, I could even help you pick out a new suit."

[Ruin]

I get distracted and carried away
and it's been this way too long

Thank the Lord Ruler, Al thought to himself. It looked like he was safe after all. Lady Devinshae thought he was a noble and he would be able to get her a new dress! Speaking of the dress he already knew which one he was going to alter for her. The blue one he had made a few days ago would be perfect. The sleeveless bodice would bring attention to her blonde curls and the silver embroidery would complement her eyes. Then there was the skirt; it was bunched several times on the edges to make the waist seem even smaller and the woman wearing it look taller. Al had designed the fashion himself and several of the High Noble Ladies had bought several of the dresses already. It would surely become the latest fashion in Luthadel, sold only at Turner’s Tailors, of course.

For a moment the thought of dresses had distracted him and it was only with a determined effort that Al was able to pull himself back to reality. He smiled down at Lady Devinshae absentmindedly. A suit? Oh right, his was ruined. “M’lady, simply your consideration for my suit has made my day.” Turning to the streets Al glanced up at the street signs. The shop was only a few blocks away. Only a five minute walk and they would be in the Commercial District.

Al turned to the lady again and offered his arm as Turner had taught him. When he looked at her he was once again caught up in styles and colors that she would look wonderful in. Red. Red would help bring out the blue eyes. A light red though, almost pink but not quite. Like sunsets. Once again Al forced himself back to reality. “Your dress will look stunning. I’m sure.” With that Al began walking slowly along the street.

Al had never been particularly good at small talk but all the same he searched for something to talk about. “So Lady Devinshae, how long have you lived in Luthadel?”

Lyrics from Right Where I Belong by 3 Doors Down

[comatose]

How long had she been in Luthadel? Could he be making fun of her? While some noble might have had his head in the gutter, and was unaware of the fall of her house, everyone had to know about the Devinshaes. At any given time, there were only around ten Great Houses in Luthadel. While House Devinshae wasn't the greatest, or even close to the greatest, it was still powerful to have been noticed. Why, they had a hotel that had been named after name right around the corner from where Chella was now.

He doesn't know she told herself. He's not mocking you. Likely he was a traveller. Or perhaps he did recognize her name, but thought she must be from one of the outer branches of the family. Maybe both. All her time in Keep Hasting we making Chella used to ridicule and being the but of jokes. Alphonze had been nothing but kind. She was imagining things; that was all.

"I've lived in Luthadel all my life," she said, not wanting to go into too much detail. It was nice to be spoken to with courtesy again, and to receive positive attentions from a man. She didn't know how long it had been since she was last able to flirt! Suddenly self conscious, she absently tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Have you been here long, Lord Alphonze?"

[Ruin]

How long… Al thought absently. He had stopped counting the months since his mother’s death a few years ago so he couldn’t recite the number off instantly as he once had. After thinking for a few moments Al came to the correct number. Nine years in Luthadel. That was… a lot. That meant he hadn’t been home in nine years. He hadn’t seen his mother; hadn’t seen his old shack. In nine years a lot could have changed.

Instead of letting the silence continue Al decided to speak his thoughts aloud. “I haven’t thought about it recently, but it’s been more than nine years now. Kind of depressing actually.” The depressed tone may have come out in his voice but Al struggled to keep smiling at the noblewoman anyway; she looked kind of nervous for some reason.

Glancing up Al saw the store sign. The engraved metal was ornate and, as Al told Turner quite often, ostentatious with the sheer number of twists and curls and fancy letters. As he came closer to the store window he noticed the dresses on the display dummies. Each one had a unique design that could only be found here. In fact the blue dress being displayed was the one Al planned to alter for Lady Devinshae. Al glanced inside and was relieved to see that it was indeed locked up and the seamstresses were gone. That would avoid any awkward questions about what exactly had happened. He fished the keys out of one of his many pockets and quickly unlocked the door of the shop.

“Lady Devinshae, I present to you “Turner’s Tailors” one of Luthadel’s most prestigious dress shops.” Al was proud of the shop, after all, it was only with his unique designs that it had become “prestigious.” He held the door open for her and glanced briefly at the room, the large space, the wooden floors, the couches, the army of display dummies, even his measuring tools, before turning back to the Lady Devinshae. “What do you think M’lady?”

[comatose]

Nine years.... I wonder what brought him here. Only in a city like Luthadel could people live in the same place most of their lives and never meet. As they walked, Chella began day dreaming, but was startled out of her reverie when Alphonze started fumbling with the lock. They were at the dress shop all ready.

That was strange. The store was obviously closed. And yet, Alphonze had the keys. Could his house own the shop? Chella felt her finger tips tingle with excitement. If she could make friends with this man, perhaps her wardrobe problems could be solved! She would have to be on her best behavior of course. She could not afford to offend him. Not if she wanted to get more than one dress out of the deal.

One of Luthadel's most prestigious dress shops, eh? Chella would have to ask someone about that when she got the chance. As the daughter of a great house, Chella had always had servants to fetch her dresses for her. If she needed something fitted, tailors had come to House Devinshae, rather than the other way around. If she was going to get used to her new status, she would have to find out which places really were the best for shopping, and how to things on her own.

Now was not the time to express any doubt, however. Turner's certainly looked nice enough. There was no reason to suspect Alphonze was lying. When she saw the dresses, Chella let out a small gasp. They were beautiful. All at once, she was back in her keep. Her home. Surrounded by beautiful things. It wasn't the same at Keep Hasting where nothing was her own. Her closet there only contained a few dresses. And none like these.

"Lord Alphonze... they're gorgeous." Rushing forward, Chella began to study them more closely, feeling the fabric in her hands, and examining the fine details. "You must employ a talented tailor and seamstress. These are exquisite!" Turning, she pushed back her hair and beamed. "Whoever Turner is, you must see that he's paid well. He certainly deserves it."