Remnants of the Earth
EDANITH => Megacities => Tynova => Topic started by: Aria on June 01, 2011, 07:12:24 pm
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Cygnus pulled a wide silken scarf from a set of wooden hooks by the door, wrapping it's long length around her head then under her chin skillfully, part of it draping over her forehead like a cowl, while the ends fluttered off her shoulders. It rippled in gradient hues of green, the pattern that of vines and leaves intertwining.
She made sure the waterfall of her hair was tucked into it tight, and her headband was hidden. With a prompt flick of her hand, she waved off the question of the woman heading in her direction with an overly bright smile. "Do not bother. I am going out for a walk." Her voice was clipped, every tone and inflection carrying a barely concealed cold fury at this too helpful staff member who watched her every move. To see if she could help, the woman claimed.
Oh, surely.
Waiting upon Cygnus did not improve her mood. Ever. Why they kept attempting was beyond her. She preferred to do things herself anyways. On her planet, you grew up relying on yourself. Being strong, being individual, was expected. Having the caretakers of the virtual prison that was her life try to cater to her needs... it just felt to her as if they were simply pampering a bovine before the slaughter, to make the meat sweeter, more tender. She was just an animal to them, to toil for their society which she cared not a whit about.
She slipped out the door, slamming it shut with an angry jerk behind her. Her long legs carried her in equally long strides, trying to get away from the community in which she lived in. It was located in an equally radial range to several parks and gardens, including the expansive park which she was currently employed to help keep looking green and healthy. But to her, this place, this community, was just an animal pen. And she needed a moments breath of fresh air to keep the bitter anger from causing her to do something irrational and dangerous. Like trying to cut the headband from her scalp and skull. Again.
Her tall, lean body had carried her forward into the city streets quickly, the scarf snapping behind her at the hasty movements. Cygnus found herself in a quiet district, several elegant fountains placed at equal distances along the immaculate streets, the flowing curve of the white marble and the sparkling clear water obviously crafted to create a sense of peace and harmony. To her, they were overly bright. Fake.
The anger was a metallic taste against her tongue, a heavy rock in the cavity of her chest. It furrowed her usually soft brow and set her mouth in a deep frown, and she pulled the scarf down further over her face. It was to hide the headband bolted into her temples, to keep the passerby from both fawning yet shying away. She was revered, with an undercurrent of tentative fear. Special. Yet diseased.
Her fingertips unconsciously brushed against the jade diamond-shaped crystal embedded into her forehead, a gesture to help calm herself. At the moment, it didn't help. The fresh air was now suffocating, and she was sure every person passing by on the street had their eyes trained on her. Seeing right through her. The stark feeling of panic surged through her like a current, a silent keening starting up in her mind. Her gaze sought some sort of refuge to escape the now insistent sound of splashing water, and fell upon a carved wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze that rustled against her headscarf. She rushed towards it, slim fingers slipping against the the silver knob as it were the only thing keeping her sane and safe.
Cygnus opened the door, a cheerful bell tinkling over her head, and stepped into the strong scent of baked earth, fired clay, paint. It was like a soothing balm against her raw panic. She realized she'd stepped into a pottery shop, the air perpetually warm from ovens and kilns. It was a shop that both made the wares, and sold the supplies. Her eyes flitted from the vases neatly lining the walls, to the orderly shelves holding paints. Then, she let her body sag against the door frame, as if weary and straining to keep a flood at bay beyond the shop door.
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Jordan moved slowly through the shop, absently smoking a cigarette. Smoking wasn't actually allowed inside, but the owners made an exception for him. He was a loyal customer and a mage. It was hard to not make exceptions for mages.
He was in a creative mood, but none of the clay at home was speaking to him, he couldn't seem to find the shape it wanted to be just yet. So he was wandering through the store, seeing what spoke to him when a girl came in.
Watching her, Jordan was a little surprised at the threads of Fate that twisted around her. She had an interesting past, full of little things and fresh pain. And the death of a race was always a bright, vivid mark across the threads, twisting and changing so many.
"Hello." He smiled softly, watching her with undisguised interest, "I see we have something in common." His own plug, with the headband attached to it was visible, he made no effort to hide what he was. The stares and worship and fear were nothing new to him.
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Cygnus detected cigarette smoke in the air, twining with the scents of natural earth, of the pressing heat of kilns. Unconsciously, her nose wrinkled against it. Cigarettes were acrid, burning. She had never encountered them before this planet. And the scent of burning always brought back unbearable flashes of memories she spent most of her time running away from.
For just a moment in her minds eye, the image of a screen flickering with interruptions of static, of a planet erupting in explosions and being devoured in flames and black smoke. Her life and planet being wiped from existence.
Cygus heard footsteps, the thoughts sliding away, and her gaze swept upwards to take in the man walking towards her. The soft green of her irises turned hard and flat with suspicion at his casual greeting. It was just the way she was. She made no attempt to greet him back, right away. Immediately, she straightened from her bent posture, not wanting to appear in such a weak state in front of a complete stranger. Her hand lifted towards her patterned headscarf, wary of his words. Her eyes narrowed significantly, and she watched this smoking man with obvious caution. How could he tell, since her headband was hidden under the scarf? But then, it was most likely obvious anyways. Most likely.
She looked at his headband, displayed among hair that hung in dreadlocks, as if he were... proud of it. No. That was simply her fear, distrust, and anger speaking. It was more as if he were nonchalant about it. At first glance, his relaxed posture told her he seemed to be a laid-back sort of person, the slow drawl of his voice when he'd spoken lending to that assumption. But assumptions and glances could always be wrong. She stepped away from the door, holding herself carefully as she was used to around strangers, men.
"Is that so...?"
Her lilted voice had an implacable accent, and she spoke the words as if they were slightly awkward in her mouth. Because to her, they were. She had picked up the most common language here easy enough, her mind was sharp for such things, as had been most of her race. But still, it gave her trouble when she was unsure of how to express something, when she did not know a word, certain expressions or phrases that others used, when surrounded by crowds all talking at once and everything gets jumbled together into mindless monkey chatter... Or other such language barriers that were placed in front of her. Thankfully- dirty, angry looks could usually suffice to get her pissed off emotions across to people.
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"Yeah. Neither of us was born here." Watching the change come over the girl was interesting. What he wouldn't do to be able to see more. But sadly, the future was hidden to him and even the past wasn't as clear as he would like.
She didn't like the cigarette, that was easy to tell, but Jordan made no move to put it out. He was enjoying it and she could wait.
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"And where... were you born?"
Again, the accent stilted her words, and she had to pause to think of how to word her sentence, but Cygnus managed all the same. Her gaze was scrutinizing now, studying his face, his eyes, his hair. She noted that he didn't put the cigarette out. Not the courteous thing to do, certainly, but she picked up on the fact that he didn't just stop doing something because of someone else's reaction. Hmph.
Cygnus realized she was still staring, and turned her body away in the next movement, moving over to the nearest shelf to examine a sleek, narrow vase. Her fingertips brushed against the polished shine of it, only half pretending to be interested in the craftmanship.
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"Cancer. My mothers always had a weak spot for it, though I'll never know why." Jordan wasn't all that fond of the station. Too much metal and technology, no place the breathe. The people were good, fascinating really, but for him, not worth it.
Talkative one, wasn't she.
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Cancer? Cygnus took a moment to place the word in her mind. Ah. One of the space station's that orbited between the planet she was imprisoned upon, and another. The more reputable station, it seemed, according to what she'd heard said between native Edani.
Cygnus could not imagine living in a flying home of metal and circuits, cut off from nature, even what facsimile of said connection she was forced into these days.
"Then... how did you end up here, on Edanith?" The planets name held distastefully upon her tongue, the "th" sound a bit difficult for her to pronounce. Her gaze flicked in the mans direction again, while her hand hovered by the vase, and she wondered briefly to herself why she even carried on such a conversation. She hardly ever went out of the way to speak to others. Perhaps it was just her current attempt to escape from her current situation. "Did she sell you, because you are a mage?"
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"Sell me? Naw, not my mother. No, she took me here to meet the planet, feel what it was like. And the people here. And I couldn't get it out of my mind."
It was still worth it. Worth giving up his freedom and his powers to get to be in connection with this place. This was his planet, it needed him.
"You came here cause of some bad luck. A dark fate, I can see that much."
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The mans answer both surprised and intrigued Cygnus, for the simple fact that it was so very alien from her own. She found it entirely too ridiculous to believe, but in the same moment, found no lie in his words. He was being honest, about being captured by the feel of the planet and its inhabitants. How laughable. Whereas she felt like nothing but a trapped animal awaiting a slaughter. Cygnus reached upwards and took a vase very carefully from a shelf, lowering her head as if to examine the piece held quite gently and carefully in her hands. After a moment, her gaze flicked upwards, looking at the other mordecai through her long lashes in a studying manner before saying,"Your story is truthful, and I find that astounding. And not... how you would put it, not in a good way." She was nothing if not honest.
"What?" Her own tone was sharp in response to his words. His observational tone as her remarked upon her reason for coming to the planet had caught her off guard, and her eyes narrowed slightly, head lifting,"You have powers that go further beyond what your headband controls?" She stared unabashedly now, and wondering just to what extent he could see. Perhaps he was a seer of some sort. "You can see the past?" She knew there was a word for such a thing. She jut did not know it in this language.
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"Some. Not really the past so much as just...things. It's all there if you just know how to look." Jordan smiled, relaxed an enjoying himself, "That vase is shit. The potter uses bad clay. If you are in the market, I can show you some much better pieces."
Mostly his own work, but there were a few other artists here that he could actually recommend.
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Cygnus studied him closely a minute more, then admitted,"That is... interesting."
She was slightly taken aback by his words, as always this planets language had a crude and harsh sound to them, but then she straightened and set the vase down calmly exactly where she had picked it up from. "How can you tell? Are you a potter?" To be honest, Cygnus had entered the shop not caring a whit for what had existed inside, just wanting a refuge from the panic that threatened to overwhelm her outside. But now, she had to admit, there existed a curiosity inside her. "Can you really? Well... Yes. That would be pleasurable."
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"I do a little work with clay. The feel of the earth in my hands." Jordan grinned and moved over to a wall, "You have to know how to listen too it. Dirk is a hack, doesn't know how to listen to the earth and he forces it. That makes a poor product."
Jordan reached up and pulled down a pitcher, handing it to her, "Do you have a name little fern?"
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Cygnus found herself slightly relaxed, and that very feeling caught her off guard. There were subtle differences in mages, even ones who handled the same elements, how they perceived their powers. "That... makes sense."
Cygnus looked at the pitcher in his hands, then took it. Turning it over in her hands, she examined it before looking back up at him. She paused briefly, considering being stubborn and guarded, but then answered simply,"I'll tell you my name, if you tell me yours."
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"Jordan Van der Aart." He didn't actually know where his mother had gotten his last name from, but she had chosen it for him, so he always used it. He held out a hand, "Now tell me yours. A deal is a deal."
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Cygnus blinked, staring out his outstretched hand. She was quite obviously confused by the gesture. What were you supposed to do...? It was obviously some sort of custom.... She was unsure, as she had a serious problem with appearing weak or foolish, but she usually tried to touch other living as little as possible, save plants. Still. She could not stand there, like an ignorant invalid.
She reached out, as he did, thinking the easiest route was to reciprocate his gesture. She glanced between their hands. At this point, she really did not know how to proceed though, so she just said, "In your language, Cygnus Jade Fleetfoot." She said her name with an air of importance, as it was one she would've been proud to share on her home planet. "Jor-dahn Van Der A-aht?" She tasted the name on her tongue, attempting to pronounce it as he had said it, though it was a little difficult. "Jordan."
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Jordan didn't even crack a smile at her odd reply, too used to meeting much stranger people with much weirder customs thanks to his mother. He shifted his hand and drew Cygnus's hand to his mouth, kissing the back of her knuckles, "Cygnus Jade Fleetfoot." He spoke her name perfectly, no awkward pausing.
"May I ask what your name in your language is?" Names were powerful things and always handy to know.
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Cygnus was somewhat caught off guard when he caught her hand and brought it to his lips. The touch was soft, and light, and somewhat similar to one they had on her planet in which family or close friends would take the other person's hands and lift them to their forehead to touch the life-jewel embedded there, then the other person would mirror the gesture. It was a showing of trust, affection, connection. It left her wondering if she was to repeat the custom, but also startled by it's possible meanings. Perhaps it was a common greeting where he came from? She honestly had no clue, and did not like feeling out of her depth. It often happened after she was sold to this planet, and was one of the reasons she had gone out of her way to avoid social situations.
At the repetition of her name, her green eyes swept from their hands to his face, searching. "No. You may not." She withdrew her hand from his grasp, once more falling back upon her base instinct of putting up barriers. The thought of speaking her language again brought a fierce ache to her chest, making it difficult to breathe in the kiln-warmed air. Her gaze flicked away, both her hands cradling the vase once more. She gazed down at it, mind grasping for some sort of hand-hold to pull her away from the thoughts of her past, before the debilitating panic set in again. "This vase. Is it one of yours? Or is this a piece from another artisan?"
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"That? No. That is shit, crap, unworthy of the sweet touch of your hand on it." Jordan wrinkled his nose, "No. Put that away. You want a vase? Let me show you art."
He reached over, taking her elbow in his hand and leading her over to another corner of the room. He could tell she didn't like the contact, but he did it anyway, enjoying the feel of her through his hands. Stopping in front of a shelf, he pulled over a vase, heavy and thick. It was simple, almost rough, but there was a subtle, delicate pattern worked into when examined closely.
"This is mine."
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Cygnus' brows scrunched in confusion for just a moment at Jordan, from either his enthusiasm or his exact wording, then angled her eyes downwards at the vase that was apparently inadequate. "Ah." She held it less delicately, somewhat inclined to believe the man. She arched a brow, "Very well then. Show me art."
His touch at his elbow disconcerted and somewhat annoyed Cygnus, who was indeed opposed to casual physical contact, the gentle leading as surprising as the kiss on the hand had been. Her green eyes lingered briefly upon his hand, but she didn't wish to show that it bothered her that much, and instead preoccupied herself with adjusting her headscarf as they walked. They stopped, and she watched in silence as he plucked a heavy vase from a shelf.
Cygnus reached over and took the vase from Jordan's hand, a slight smile playing on her lips as she did not ask permission. After all, he had been forward, no reason she could not be either. Her gaze found the subtle patterns in the uneven surface, felt the heft in the weight of the vase. It was solid- sturdy, but there was a beauty worked into it's form, if you cared to look you would find it. "You can tell the differences between this vase and the other. It has... a subtle beauty. Though perhaps a bit heavy." Cygnus was impressed, surely, but modesty was a common practice amongst her people and still ingrained in her. Compliments accompanied by a suggestion of bettering oneself. "Does all your work possess such weight? Is it the clay you use?" Merely curious, she turned the vase over peered inside to check its capacity.
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"No no. I do all different weights. Depends on the piece and what I am creating it for. This one wanted to be heavy. Others, light." Jordan flicked some of his ash into the other vase before replacing it on the shelf. It was gaudy and cheap and unworthy of his attentions.
He grinned, enjoying her praise, even as light as it was and he moved closer, noticing her dislike of contact. Such an interesting little bud he had found.
"What about you? What do you do?"
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The young woman could not help the wry smile pulling at her lips at his complete disregard of the other vase, flicking his ashes into it and then setting it aside carelessly. "Mmmm." She made a noncommittal noise as she considered his words. The way he talked about clay, you'd think he communed with it. Actually, she didn't doubt that he probably did, in a way. "Do you have a lot of... pieces? Do you sell all of them, to make profit?"
Cygnus was aware of him, was not oblivious to the movements that brought him closer. She continued to study the vase, thinking about his question. What did she do? Honestly? Did her life really even hold any meaning these days? Hardly. Part of that was her own fault, her stubborn refusal to let go of her bitterness, her resentment, to forget and let go and move on. She held on to that hatred, fuel to simply get up in the morning, it was what got her from day to day- awaiting what times she is allowed to reconnect with her true calling, to bond with her flora kindred. "I live, Mister Van Der Aart. I... how would you put it... unfortunately, do not have a hobby such as this, as you do." Her answer was purposefully vague, the restraint of her upbringing just barely keeping her from betraying just how bleak an existence she thought her's ways. One does not confide that in strangers, after all. "Aside from the.... job assigned to me here, that is." There were acidic undertones in her voice were a tad hard to miss.
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"Why not?" Jordan couldn't really miss how bitter the girl sounded and it amused him. There was no point in fighting the system, not like that. It would only make her angry and used up. No, much better to go along with it, make it work for you.
"It would do you good to find something you love. It will make you beautiful to have some passion in your soul." Jordan reached his hand up, stroking a knuckle down her cheek, although he knew her dislike of his touches.
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Cygnus could detect the amusement in his voice, and her gaze swept upwards to his face, green eyes flashing with annoyance. She did not care for being mocked, not in the least. What to say, though? Why not be honest? "Because... it has been very hard to find enjoyment in life."
Her nose crinkled in cynical disbelief at his words at first, then she stilled at his touch, movements completely halting for a few heartbeats. Her eyes did not move from his face, gaze steady, one hand half raised as if in caution. A look of questioning, wariness. Then her face closed up, and she became guarded, defiant once more. With an offhand manner, she turned and placed his vase upon the shelf, adjusting her headscarf to drape even more closely around her face. "Perhaps I will take up..." She waved her free hand at the piece of pottery before her, fingers briefly touching the subtle intricacy," Pottery." Her tone was half joking, a carefully sarcastic smile upon her lips.
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"Pottery can be very rewarding." Jordan's lips curled into a smile, enjoying the play of emotion across her face. She was interesting and pretty. He would like to get to know her better, see what was behind all those shields.
"Why not find joy? Being bitter doesn't suit such a pretty face and fierce spirit."
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"Mmm?" Again, Cygnus made a noncommittal noise as she gazed upon his work of art. "It... seems to work for you."
"You speak pretty words yet again, Mister Van Der Aart." Cygnus turned from the vase, her expression obviously unimpressed. She was not, after all, a woman easily swayed by compliments and the like. While Jordan seemed quite honest enough, not the sort to charm and beguile on whimsy- Cygnus knew quite well, appearances could be very deceiving. "Being bitter... helps to get by. As does anger. Especially when one has quite a lot to be bitter and angry about." Her voice was clipped, hedging around the subject skillfully. "And being bitter is a hobby within itself, I can assure you." Her smile was now both wry and cynical, thoughts already raging at Edanith and all its inhabitants.
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"Ah, yes. But oh so poisonous to the soul." He reached out again, touching her just above her breast, over where a human's heart would be. He wasn't sure if her's was located there, his ability to see numbed too far by the headband, "It would be so much better to use that and move it into art. Capture it there, express it in clay or paint or metal and let that hold onto that bitter rage."
He smiled again, liking the odd colored woman and her prickly temper, "There are much more...healthy and fun activities you could be enjoying."
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"So says you." Even though she knew he was being truthful. She knew first hand the poison with which bitterness corroded your soul. Cygnus's eyes carefully tracked the movement of his hand when it reached towards her. She looked at him warily, then reached up and took his hand, steering it away from her body,"But perhaps it is something worth giving thought." And she was being honest. Perhaps she would take up painting, sculpting, pottery, metalwork, or other such activities.
She turned away from his smile, releasing his hand from her grip. There was a point that she reached, where a conversation strayed just too far into the subject of herself. They had reached it. Cygnus reached over and picked up the vase shaped by Jordan's hand. "I will buy this." She stated simply, and then walked further into the interior of the store, in the direction of the counter.
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She was such an interesting one. He would find her again, that he was sure. Her path was entwined with his. Damn these headbands or he would be able to tell how much better. He hoped she was in the mood to open up, because Jordan was very interested.
His eyes slid down her frame as she walked away. It wasn't just her mind that interested him. She was pretty under all that barbed hostility.
"You have good taste." Following after, Jordan leaned against the wall, still watching her as she paid, "If you want to take up pottery, I would be happy to give you lessons."
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Cygnus could feel his eyes on her, and, unbidden, a smile played at her lips-
Which promptly disappeared when he was able to see her face once more, as she retrieved what the vase cost from a pouch at her waist. Handing it over, she let the cashier properly bag her purchase, and raised a considering brow at Jordan. "Would you?"
After being handed her bag, Cygnus turned, "Very well. Where do you live?"
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"Of course. I am happy to serve." And part of him could never fully shake his mother's training. Always collect favors, bind people to you in very real ways. The universe wasn't kind to those that cheated a witch.
Pulling out a scrap of paper with a crossed out list on the back, Jordan scribbled his address, "I have my studio there. Maybe I'll make us dinner after the lesson."
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She watched quietly as he wrote on the paper. Then she reached over and delicately plucked it up, slipping it into her bag with his vase.
"And perhaps I'll stay for it..." Cygnus's smile was faint, giving away nothing. "I guess we'll have to see." With that she turned and exited the shop, giving nothing but a fleeting glance backward as a farewell.
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Jordan grinned, pleased with his meeting with her. She was an interesting one, so lovely and so catty. He was going to enjoy their lessons.
((OOC: Time skip?))
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((Sure! C: It was either that or a new thread. But this works just fine, too.))
Cygnus reached out and adjusted the vase, so it caught the light just so on its edges.
She studied it for a moment more, then turned it another way. Still not satisfied, a deep frown overtook her features, and she sighed darkly at the piece of pottery.
The vase she had bought almost two weeks prior had been moved from shelf to table and back again more then a few times. Cygnus found her eyes drifting to it whenever she returned home. And each time she remembered the meeting, and the slip of paper that lay somewhere in her kitchen, she would move the vase once more.
Maybe it was time to give Mister Van der Aart a visit. Figure out that pottery business before the itch to try and remove her headband caught up with her again.
With one last dismissive look at the inanimate object, Cygnus rose and headed for her kitchen.
She ended up finding the paper in the trash. One of the infuriating beings that staffed her house thought they were being helpful and threw it away. Cygnus was positively livid by the time she'd fished it out, and made that clear by yelling at them all. Of course, they understood none of it, as it was all in the language of her home planet. Most of them were used to it already.
And then, after angrily washing her hands and retrieving a headscarf, she left. Not the type to ask for directions (from anyone), it took a bit longer than anticipated- she could've easily asked for transportation there, but refused to accept their help. But find the address she did. Cygnus's green eyes studied her surroundings as she approached, the wind tugging at her scarf and fluttering her long skirt behind her.
Cygnus lifted a slim hand, hovering by the door. She probably should have given some sort of warning before she came. But, it was rather too late for that now, wasn't it? So she knocked- loudly and firmly, to be certain sure she was heard.
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Jordan almost missed the sound, having been working in his studio. It was only because he was getting himself a drink in his kitchen that he heard the sound. Heading over to the door, he opened it wearing a thin, long sleeved and comfortable shirt and worn in jeans.
At the site of Cygnus, his face lit up in a bright grin, leaning against the door frame. He was covered in wet clay, spattered across him and his hands were almost solid up to his elbows, "I wasn't sure you were every going to come for that lesson."
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Cygnus stepped back when the door opened, she'd almost thought that no one was home. "Ah..." Her eyes studied the clay splattered across his front, lingering on his hands. There was even a bit on his face.
"I was not sure, either." Her smile was just teasing enough. Discreetly, Cygnus tucked the slip of paper with his address away.
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"I'm glad you did." Jordan stepped back, motioning her to step inside, "You look beautiful. If you want a lesson, I hope you are prepared to get those clothes dirty. If not, you can wear some of mine."
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"It has not even been two minutes, and already with the pretty words..." Cygnus smiled wryly as she stepped inside. Once in, she paused to look around. "Hmmm..." She was fond of the skirt, truth be told. But wearing his clothes?
"Alright. Would you be willing to lend me some clothing?"
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"Pretty words for a pretty lady. I could be crude if you would rather, but I find it is useful to tell the truth. I find you beautiful. What's the harm in verbalizing that?" His house was bright and airy, with lots of open space. There were a few pieces of pottery around, though mostly Jordan seemed to have a less is more sense of aesthetics.
Gesturing to another room, he smiled, "I would be thrilled to get you out of your clothes." He padded barefoot into his bedroom and pulled out a clay stained shirt and a pair of pants, "These will be too big, I'm sure, but I'll try and find you something to use as a belt."
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"No, I would not rather." Cygnus would be lying to herself if she did not admit that she preferred beauty over vulgarity. Her expression turned amused,"I... suppose there is no harm in that..." Cygnus found his living space a tad spartan, but at least it was not spartan in the perfect, conservative manner in which the rest of Tynova patterned itself after. The absolute perfect symmetry of it all often grated on her nerves. But no, his was open, pleasant, but not perfect.
Cygnus followed after Jordan, a puzzled expression capturing her features for a moment. She did not quite catch onto the flirtatious nuance there, at first. Then she smiled to herself when she realized what he meant. "I am sure you would..." Her eyes took in the room, obviously where he slept at night, then looked at the clothes that he produced. She took the garments, a little cautiously. "Thank you." Then looked at him pointedly, with a faint bemused smile- as she was not intending to undress in front of him.
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The bedroom was simple as well, mostly warm colors, though well lived in. He smiled, then retreated to the other room, shutting the door behind him. Giving her time to change, he searched around for some string and came across a bit of rope he had been using to tie some wood bundles together. It should work.
Lounging in his kitchen, he sipped his drink, waiting for her to finish.
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Cygnus waited for the door to close. She studied the interior of his quiet room one more time, an old habit to check for danger, a habit that refused to die. Assured nothing was going to attack whilst she was vulnerable, Cygnus undressed. She stepped into Jordan's pants, and pulled his shirt over her head. She smiled to herself faintly, detecting individual scents in the clothing- the smokiness from cigarettes, an earthiness of clay, and a scent entirely his own.
She stood there after folding her own discarded clothing carefully. Then she reached up and pulled the headscarf from her head, letting her hair tumble freely over her shoulders and down her back. Truth be told, it was stifling to wear, but it helped reduce the awe and fear she encountered on the streets.
Leaving her clothes, Cygnus stepped from Jordan's room and looked around, attempting to keep the pants from slipping too low as she walked. She found him in the kitchen. "Well. I believe I am suitably clothed in order to learn now?"
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Jordan whistled, "I like the hair down. It's lovely." He moved closer, starting to thread the rope through her belt loops, "Here, this should help keep the pants up. I hope you are ready to get messy. Real art requires one to get dirty, to involve yourself into the piece."
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Cygnus touched her hair, expression wavering between her usual stubborn poker-face, and a pleased smile. "Yes, well, the scarf is practical."
She tensed when he moved near, and watched his hands carefully that close to her hips. "Thank you. That should... help." Still looking down, she smiled. "Yes, I'm ready to get messy. If that's what it takes. I'm here to learn, after all, and you do seem to be a... skilled potter." She admitted that compliment with reluctance. "So... as I've heard it said- whatever you say."
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"It is never practical to cover such beauty." Once he had tied the 'belt' he couldn't resist lifting a hand to his hair and lifting a silky lock, "And be careful what you promise. I could ask for a number of things."
He smiled and kissed the strand before turning and beckoned her to follow. Out back was his studio, in a simple, low building. Inside was much more cluttered than the house, with a potters wheel at the center and hunks of clay everywhere, all different colors and kinds.
"Today, we start with a simple bowl. Take a seat."
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Cygnus blinked, going to pull her hair from his grasp, then her eyes narrowed a fraction. "It is simply a saying I have heard..." See, that is what she gets when trying to use the lingo of this stupid native's tongue.
Quite miffed by his invasion of her personal space, she debated the intelligence of her choice to learn a "hobby". What good was this hobby going to be anyways? Did she really need one? She could continue on just fine... surviving on bitter rage.
In the end, Cygnus followed after Jordan as he led her out back and to his studio. She breathed in deep, the scents of earth very strong in this room. It reminded her of the canyons of home, after heavy rainfall. "A simple bowl..." She echoed as she, begrudgingly obedient, did as he said and took a seat.
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Jordan sat cross legged next to her, "The basic shapes are easy, you'll be able to make things quickly. The trick, is learning to make something beautiful." His voice was low and easy as he started the lesson, teaching her about how to pick the right clay for the right job and how to mold it beneath her hands as the wheel spun.
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Cygnus, to her credit, was not a terribly bad student with most things. But she did have trouble relaxing enough in order to truly grasp how to mold the clay, how to push and shape it with her hands.
She grew frustrated after a failed attempt turned out lopsided and lumpy, angry at how it did not seem to yield beneath her fingers as she wanted it to. "This is... not working." She glared at the misshapen bowl, clay all along her forearms.
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"Because you keep forcing it. Feel what it wants to do and let it happen." Jordan moved behind her, taking her hands in his, "Like this." As the wheel spun, he started to fix the bowl, guiding her hands along to smooth it out, even the clay into the correct shape.
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"What it wants to do...? I guess that first bowl wanted to be a splatter on the wall, because that is what happened to it." She was of course irritably referring to her first attempt, that flew off the potters wheel and formed itself to the wall.
She glanced behind her suspiciously, not at all happy about all the close contact, but allowed herself to refocus on the wheel after a moment. Cygnus focused on the way he guided her hands, trying to memorize it so that she would be able to apply it herself. Of course, the clay worked perfectly under his guidance, much to her frustration. Still, with his help, she was able to make a bowl.
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"Just feel what it wants. You forced the first bowl too hard." Jordan set up another bowl, hands over hers again, "See how it wants to be taller?" He shaped it with her a little longer, "You aren't going to become a master in one afternoon."
Letting his hands drop, he let her work the bowl, "Remember, don't force it."
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Cynugs was, truth be told, a little disappointed with herself. She'd been hoping, for some reason, that she would be a natural at pottery. She supposed that had been a truly childish wish, as no one was ever perfect without a little practice and hard work. "Yes, I know..."
In the moments following when he removed his hands, she was unsure, much like a child riding a bike after their parent has let go. But the end result, after she was finally able to simply let the clay become what it wanted to be, was not bad. A little too thin at the rim, and not the most beautiful belle at the ball, but it was a bowl. She tilted her head, frowning at it. "Well... at least it is not a splatter on the wall."
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"Wonderful. You have a natural talent." Jordan smiled, still seated behind her, but being careful not to touch. It was so tempting to, slide his hands along her thin frame, stroke that lovely long hair. But it was too soon.
He hated being so blind, how much the headband clogged his vision. So many things he wanted to know about her, "Why don't you try making another one. Then we can see about that dinner."
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Cygnus glanced over her shoulder at him, not unaware of his presence there, so close. "I still have a lot of progress to make," she muttered, humility and humbleness still second nature.
"Alright." She took her first real success from the afternoons lesson and set it aside, then went about choosing the right type and portion of clay, as he'd instructed her to do. Setting it on the potters wheel, breathing deep the scents of earth as she began to mold the bowl. Leaning over it carefully, Jordan's large shirt hanging loosely from he frame, Cygnus said,"It has bothered me since we first met, how you can be so at ease with this planet."
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"I love this planet. I gave everything up for it." Jordan watched her hands closely, "Easy, don't force. Listen, shape. You and this clay are working together to make art. This place called to me, before I even knew it. I was made for it."
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Cygnus felt a bitter twinge of envy for his outlook, as alien as it was to her. How someone could love such a barren planet was beyond her. "I'm not trying to force it." She said with an irritated sigh.
She took a deep breath, attempting to shake the tenseness from her back and shoulders. Perhaps she should approach it much like she would communing with plants, you had to be careful of what emotions you were feelings, else you would risk disrupting the flora's lifeforce, causing damage or wilting. She needed to relax. "Called to you?" She asked absently, as she hollowed out the middle of the bowl, forming the sides between her hands. "And so that's why you left everything behind? Submitted to them bolting a device into your head that kept you from your true ability?"
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"Yes. And I would do so again." Jordan smiled softly, looking at something not in the same room with them, something far away only he could see, "I'm going to bring life to her. There is so much here, just waiting for a little help."
He shook his head, laughing as he tapped his headband, "This? Is nothing. I'll tolerate this for my Edanith."
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Cygnus lifted her head, looking back at Jordan quizzically. It was so hard for her to comprehend his way of looking at it. "So, you see... potential, in it?"
"That is... admirable." Her voice was soft for a moment. It was admirable, that he would tolerate the very thing that kept them shackled, for whatever faraway dream it was he obviously saw.
"But also foolish." Cygnus couldn't very well be nice, now could she? Her brows pulled closer together, in her distraction her thumb had pressed into the side of the bowl, causing it to ripple and distort. She swore in her language, trying to smooth it out again.
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"Sush pretty cat. Why do you never listen?" Jordan's hands came up again, guiding hers along, "Things don't have to be perfect to be beautiful." He pressed lightly against her thumbs, warping the bowl, but keeping it controlled, adding a new shape to the bowl, "Take the flaws and work with them."
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Cygnus lifted her head stubbornly at the rebuke, but the pressure of his hands on hers once more stopped the angry words her mind had been searching to say. She watched as the bowl bent and reformed beneath the pressure of her thumbs. "Well... hmph."
"It is... unique." He was too close, leaning over her, his hands on her's. "This pottery hobby has turned out to be more frustrating then anticipated. But thank you, I acknowledge the wisdom of your words and guidance."
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"Art is often frustrating, all that emotion makes the best pieces." Jordan smiled again, eyes still on the bowl as he guided her hands along it, "I'm going to let go, see if you can still work it. Remember, perfect isn't always flawless."
He moved his hands back, letting her control the bowl again.
-
She did better this time, not forcing the bowl as much, letting the mistakes become part of the design.
Cygnus sat back once finished, arms starting to feel tired from molding and working with the clay. "I see now why you wear clothing you do not care much about." She looked at the clay on her arms and clothes with a wry smile.
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"Beautiful!" Jordan smiled again, teeth white against his dark skin. He stood, stretching a moment, back sore from sitting like that so long, "We just have to fire these. That will take some time, so we can clean up and you can decide if you want that offer of dinner."
He held out a hand to help her up. He knew she didn't like the contact, but he enjoyed touching her. Soft and prickly and beautiful. It was hard to not tease her a little until he saw the thorns.
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Cygnus paused a moment, staring at Jordan's smile. "Very well, that seems... prudent."
She looked at his hand, then slid her green eyes up to his face. With a wry smile still on her lips, Cygnus pointedly stood without his help. Flexing her clay caked hands,"Where can I clean up?"
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"You can use my shower if you like. It's just off of my bedroom. Clean towels are in there. And I promise I wont try to peek." When he saw her naked, it would be because she let him. He began taking the pieces over to his kiln, "I've got to clean up a bit in here."
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"I'll help you clean first." Cygnus said this firmly, and it was obvious in her steady gaze and the stubborn upwards tilt of her head that she would not be budged on the matter. It was rude to leave the mess to the teacher. She did not like to seem ungrateful.
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"You don't have too. It is mostly my mess anyway." He had been working and the little bit he had done with Cygnus had hardly been any of it. "Besides, the sooner you have showered, the sooner I can shower."
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Cygnus glared a little, not happy to have her offer turned down. But then, after a long moment, she turned, trying to act nonchalant and not offended. "Very well." And she exited the shed.
She retraced her steps and found herself back into his bedroom. Muttering in her language under her breath irritably, and making sure the door was firmly shut, she pulled the soiled clothes off. Still annoyed, she dropped them in a heap. After locating a towel, and the clothes she'd worn before the lesson, Cygnus figured out his shower, and washed the clay from her skin.
It felt a odd to be in someone else's bathroom, too intimate for her taste. So she was quick about her washing, drying, and re-dressing. Much to her irritation, the faint scent of his clothes lingered on her skin.
Cygnus emerged from the bedroom when she was finished dressing, long hair uncovered and wet. Looking around, her eyes narrowed slightly. She called out, "Mister Van Der Aart?" She disliked the length of that, and made a face. Cygnus paused, then tried again as she walked forward, unsure of how she felt about the word as it stumbled off her tongue, "Jordan..?"
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"Ah! Done already?" Jordan was just heading back into the house, his studio cleaned up when he heard her call out. His eyes slid over her, loving that lean look of her, all that beautiful hair of hers. "Wonderful. Make yourself at home. I'm gonna shower real fast before I cook. As much as I love clay, it doesn't taste very good."
Heading into his room, Jordan took a quick shower, changing into a similar outfit, though the clay stains on this one were old. Padding barefoot into the kitchen, he opened his fridge and looked inside, "Do you care what I make? Anything I should avoid?"
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Cygnus watched him, leaning against the doorframe carefully. Did he forget that there had been the possibility she would stay for dinner. With a slight frown, she decided she was hungry anyways.
"I prefer meat such as seafood or poultry over what I believe you refer to as... orange meat?" That didn't sound quite right to her. Hmm.
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"So meat then." Jordan didn't actually eat much meat, but he was pretty sure he had some shrimp, "I'll whip us up something amazing." He stood up, leaning against the door of the fridge, relaxed and pleased, "Now go watch TV or something. I want to surprise you with my culinary genius."
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Actually, Cygnus preferred fruits, vegetables, and grain based foods- over most any meat. But he'd asked what to avoid, and she didn't really catch everything implied in a conversation. Language barrier and all.
She tilted her head, watching him lean on the fridge in that relaxed manner. He seemed like such an unflappable individual. "Well. With such words, I will expect to be surprised." She went to explore his living room, eventually turning on the T.V.
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It took him about half an hour to pull together a simple dinner. Flaky bread from the store, a light shrimp and pesto pasta and a simple salad. He began setting the table, calling out to Cygnus, "Foods ready. Do you like wine? I have a bottle of decent white wine."
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Cygnus rose from the couch. Wine? She thought for a moment, as she did not drink often. She called back, "A little would do no harm, I suppose." She made her way into the dining room, eyes falling upon the spread. "Simple, and light. That is not necessarily bad, though."
Her voice was approving, at least in comparison to her usual criticism, but that could have been chalked up to the fact that she was hungry.
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"Have I finally done something you like then?" Jordan smiled and grabbed the bottle of wine, bringing it out to the table, "Here I have been trying to impress you with wit, charm and pottery. When all I needed was food."
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"Mmm." Cygnus made a noncommittal noise. But her eyes crinkled at the corners slightly, hinting at a smile. "Perhaps you have just been trying to hard." A teasing smile played on her lips now as she sat at the table.
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"True, but I get the feeling I wont get anywhere if I don't try hard." Jordan started to serve up the food and poured two glasses of wine to go with it. He rarely got drunk, but he enjoyed a good bottle of wine.
"How did you enjoy your first lesson?"