The scent of clay

[Aria]

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.

[Anonymous]

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.

[Aria]

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.

[Anonymous]

"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.

[Aria]

"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.

[Anonymous]

"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.

[Aria]

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?"

[Anonymous]

"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."

[Aria]

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.

[Anonymous]

"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.

[Aria]

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."

[Anonymous]

"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?"

[Aria]

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."

[Anonymous]

"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."

[Aria]

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."

[Anonymous]

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.

[Aria]

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?"

[Anonymous]

"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."

[Aria]

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.

[Anonymous]

"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?"