Private Tales Forastero

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
It certainly wasn't the worst way to spend a day, but as always Kishou wished there was more he could do than just stand there. He thought it would be nice to have an umbrella to shade Amore as she played.

"Mm," the swordsman agreed and fingered through the varying sizes of coins inside of the small leather pouch, slowly getting a rough count of their earnings. He mumbled to himself, having to recount twice. He was quite hungry again, but wouldn't admit it.

A group of giggling children ran up from the riverbank, some with their sandals in their hands, others with wet and muddy stones. Kishou paid them little mind, as they had been playing for a while now.

The first rock was thrown and skipped across the dirt. Then came a second, and several more after that.

"Freak!" Kishou heard one of the kids squeal.

"Outsider!" Said another.
 
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At first Amore wasn't certain just what was going on. She'd heard the children playing down by the water for most of the afternoon. Usually the presence of a child was cause for a smile, but this time their presence was less than amiable. She felt a stone hit her foot - heard the yells but didn't understand them. The next stone bounced off the ground and hit her robes.

A few more skittered in, landing haplessly in the area but missing entirely.

Then one hit her at the corner of her brow, startling her with a soft yelp.

"Ouch - what?" Amore pressed her fingers to the side of her head. No blood, but it would surely bruise, "What is going on?"
 
Anger rose like heat in the swordsman. The Priestess' words fell on deaf ears.

"You damn brats!" He spat. Kishou took a menacing step forward and stood between Amore and the children. A stone harmlessly struck his chest. He clenched his fists. "Get out of here!"

The group of miscreants retreated and ran back towards the city, shrilling insults towards Amore.

"Are you okay?" He quickly turned to her and gently took the hand that prodded at her brow. "Let me see."
 
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"I think so..." wincing, the Priestess let him look. At the end of her brow, just between her eye and temple, a mark of dirt and a growing patch of red. It hurt for certain, but she wasn't one to complain about something she was perfectly familiar with. "I'll be alright ... let's just, go back?"

["Excuse me,"] a man of plain wardrobe and the sigil of a local business approached them curiously, offering a short bow to Kishou and the woman, ["word has traveled through the city of the foreign woman with hair of blood and a voice of a songbird. Master Kei humbly requests an audience."]

Between the pain and the many words she did not understand, Amore could not fathom what this person wanted. She'd leave it to Kishou, as she had found herself doing much lately.
 
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Heat bubbled over like boiling water in the swordsman. The little rascals deserved a good scare, and Kishou would have been glad to strike fear into their tiny hearts. He wore a nasty scowl and gingerly brushed the dirt from next to her brow with his thumb.

"What?" Kishou turned that nasty scowl towards the stranger. His expression softened after a few moments. "Master... Kei?" He turned to face the plainly dressed man and folded his arms. Though his garments were simple, they were finely made.

"Who is Master Kei? You'll have to forgive me for asking. We are strangers here."
 
["Master of the White Orchid,"] the man said, ["the most honored tea and bath house of the city with the finest Yisha and the strongest teas."]

A high-brow brothel, in other words. Not that Amore could understand at all what he was saying, though she did pick up on tea and orchid.

["The Master requests the presence of this most exotic Lady and her song for the evening show. He is willing to pay at great expense for her."]
 
Kishou's mouth opened to respond immediately, though no words came. Instead, he raised a hand to his chin and stroked the light patch of stubble that grew there. Narrow eyes pensively squinted.

Kishou turned to the Priestess and told her several half-truths.

"A Master Kei sent this man. He's the owner of a tea house- picture a high-class lounge. With music and songs." Kishou could have rubbed the prickly hair right off his chin. "He says this Kei is willing to pay- a lot."

The swordsman turned back to the stranger. "We will meet Master Kei. To discuss terms."

Kishou tried very hard to display the comportment of a man of importance. He was quite awful at it.
 
She was waiting as patiently as she had ever felt, which was strange given that she was an enormously patient woman. Felt like she'd been walking on eggshells here, and some good news was certainly welcome.

"To pay?" Amore asked after Kishou, a hand reaching out to his sleeve as he bid the stranger farewell, "Pay for what?" There was concern in her moony gaze. Important people didn't pay a lot for menial things. Was Kishou taking on a warrior's contract again? But how would they know that he was? He hadn't swords and, so far as she could tell, he wasn't a known entity here. The confusion was clear on her face.
 
"For songs. Just for songs." He glared at Kei's proxy, who looked back at the swordsman with confusion.

"Very well. If you would, please follow me."

The pair followed the man through the city towards a castle that sat atop an artificial mound. The castle and buildings under it resided in the city's inner wall. They were only allowed through this wall's inner gate because they accompanied the proxy.

The White Orchid was closed for business. They entered the building into a wide-open room. Pushed off to the side were several foldable screens. In the center of the room was a small, raised stage.

Even further into the brothel, they came face-to-face with this Kei. He clearly thought highly of himself, as where he sat was slightly higher from the floor. His seat was cushioned, and the room was decorated with several hanging paintings. Amore and Kishou were even made to sit on their knees in front of him.
 
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Master Kei was a young and decidedly handsome man. Similar in age to Kishou, perhaps a bit younger, clean cut and clearly wanting for nothing. He held a semblance of regality about him in the way he perched on his seat and eyed the visitors - finely shaped brows arching high as he laid his gaze upon the strands of red peeking out from Amore's hood.

["Astonishing,"] he remarked gently, eyeing her openly and without shame, ["how did such a beauty enter this city without any fanfair at all? What is her name?"]

Amore knew that last question well enough, ["My name is Amorea Delarosa."]

Another look of shock on the man's face as he glanced to either side of him where some of his business partners and compatriots stood in wait, ["You speak our language?"]

["Simple words,"] she replied.

There was a growing glint of recognition in the man's eyes as Kei understood the potential of her presence, ["But nothing so simple about you at all. I want her for this teahouse,"] his gaze shifted to Kishou who, he assumed, was her ward, ["how much?"]
 
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Many things about Kei annoyed Kishou. The fact that he looked down the bridge of his nose at the pair. The fact that a mere pleasure house owner mantled an aura of suffocating arrogance. The fact that he was so damned handsome.

Swallowing several snappy comments back, he turned to Amore. "His attitude makes me ineffably frustrated, Amore."

"I do not speak for her," Kishou said to Kei, "and she is not a thing to be purchased."

Kishou pushed off his knees and sat cross-legged. "He expressed a strong desire to have you for this establishment and asked for your price."
 
Ineffably, even. The Priestess had remained seated upon her knees, hands lightly resting upon her thighs, head slightly bowed. She knew enough not to look up into the eyes of the man who called upon them, but at this point it didn't matter so much. Did the look of a blind woman count for disrespect if she couldn't actually see you?

But beneath the faint shade of her hood, Amore raised her brows at ineffably. She longed to know what was being said but continued to trust in her reliance on Kishou to do what needed to be done. When he finally relayed Master Kei's demand, she took a moment to consider her response.

["To sing,"] she offered gently, ["and play music."]

["Naturally,"] Kei replied with a drawn smile.

["For one night."]

Kei's smile disappeared. That was not what he had in mind. ["You misunderstand, I-"] but he paused as he watched Amore look to Kishou and speak in the language he could not understand.

"Give him a high price," Amore hushed to Kishou.
 
"Ten Tsu," said the swordsman.

"For a single night!" Kei shrilled. The young master glowered at Kishou. The hand in his lap fidgeted as he considered just how badly he wanted the Priestess, even if it was for that one evening.

Amore had never felt the shape or weight of a Tsu, an ellipse-shaped coin that was worth a hundred or more of any other coin they'd earned on their travels.

"He's outraged," Kishou spoke to Amore and stifled a chuckle. "We will stay in Kozai for some time. Perhaps in exchange for room and board, with pay included, you lend this man your voice?"
 
If the Priestess had leaned away from the echoing outburst of the Master, it was only out of surprise at its suddenness. She did well to school her expression upon hearing Kishou's chuckle, her lips twisting tightly to conceal the smirk that desperately wanted to show. She gently cleared her throat, pressing a curled fist to hide the smile, and nodded to Kishou.

That sounded like a good deal.
 
"Alternatively," Kishou lilted, "we will be in Kozai for the foreseeable future. For a fair wage and room and board, my lovely companion will gladly lend her voice to your establishment." The swordsman studied the now-composed Master Kei. "Would this be to your liking?"
 
Kei narrowed his eyes, easing back into his seat while he mulled the thought over.

"Mameha," he called after a few moments, signalling to one of the standing attendants to do whatever it was that Mameha meant. Kei's gaze fell upon the red-haired woman once more, keenly taking in her demure figure in her plain robes. His nose wrinkled faintly, but he turned his attention to the arrival of an older woman who had bowed her way in to his presence.

He motioned for her to approach him and leaned to speak to her privately. She looked back at Amore, skeptical eyes staring at the woman with impunity and judgement, leaned back to shake her head and whisper something back. Another exchange and she looked to Kishou in the same manner. A nod.

["Yes, very much so. However, the White Orchid is not an inn,"] the man's steely gaze settled on Kishou, ["she will be earning her keep and so must you."]

["He is handsome, the women will like him,"] Mameha smiled the smile of poisoned honey, ["she will take a lot of work to clean up. We cannot present her like this, Master."]

["Certainly not,"] Kei frowned, ["but we will need time to plan for her debut. Two days time."]

["Two days?"] Mameha scoffed, ["It will take me two weeks to make her like Yisha."]

["You will have two days, no more. Do what you must,"] Kei waved at her dismissively, ["show them to their rooms."]
 
Kishou didn't cower under Kei's strong gaze. "Of course. I'm no layabout."

Whatever satisfaction over agitating Kei (Kishou would shamelessly admit that it was no small amount) quickly subsided with Mameha's remark.

Despite his questionable manners during the brief negotiations, if one could call it that, Kishou sat on his knees and bowed to Kei before they were shown to their rooms. The White Orchid was a vast place. Their rooms were separate, with Amore's being rather lavish and Kishou's... leaning closer to rudimentary.

The swordsman wasted no time in rejoining his companion and showed himself into her room with little warning.

"That went well!"
 
If someone were to appreciate the differences between living arrangements, Amore was not one of them. She could not see the luxury surrounding her. A setting of tea and a basket of rice cakes sat before her, the former of which she'd taken a small and beautifully crafted ceramic bowl to drink from. If nothing else, she certainly appreciated the tea in this culture.

"That went well!"

And there went the tea tumbling from her startled hands. The bowl landed with a splash and a thud on a nearby ornamental rug. Amore breathed a heavy sigh of alarm and frowned, "Yes, I suppose it did. But I am worried that my singing will not be quite what the Master expects. What if I offend his clients?"
 
"Aha," Kishou nervously breathed, "sorry."

He skittered around the room and grabbed a textile that hung from the wall. It had an emblem that identified the establishment, a white orchid. Kishou used it to dab at the tea that had spilled around the rug.

"Well, that is an issue that can be resolved as it arises." His nose scrunched as he looked at the stained emblem expertly embroidered into the banner. He thoughtlessly tossed it aside. "The next two days will be busy for you, I'm afraid."

Admittedly, what little knowledge he had of these types of establishments came from his former comrade, who had been birthed and raised in a teahouse, though not one nearly as prominent as the White Orchid. There were no words of wisdom he could spare to prepare Amore for Mameha's merciless preparations.
 
Resolved as it arises. Amore furrowed her brow at this, "That doesn't bode well for me - the one doing the offending."

["Well well well,"] a woman appeared in the doorway behind Kishou, smoking stem in hand, priceless Yisha robes casually hanging from slender, unpainted shoulders. A Yisha off-duty, as it were. She smiled, eyeing the tapestry Kishou had just willingly ruined where it lay on the floor, ["so it's true. A foreigner with hair of blood has entered the tea house to sing and play music like a Yisha."]

She strode in on a languid stride of someone who had earned her due years ago and stood valiantly at the top of her game, ["Does she even speak our language. Can she even sing our songs?"]

Amore looked over toward the voice, listening with a strained ear for familiar words.

["No, I guess not,"] the woman frowned into a facial shrug, ["all the better. So much fuss over a poor foreigner."]

["Matsu,"] suddenly, Mameha was there with them as well, carrying boxes and followed by several young girls on her heels also carrying supplies, ["say hello to your new sister Amo. She will be taking your solo act. Hahaha..."]

Matsu scowled and rounded on Kishou, ["What are you doing in a Yisha's room. Get out and get to work."]
 
Kishou quietly stood with folded arms as the vixen prowled about Amore's room. His shoulders jolted slightly as she had turned alarmingly fast to snap at him. She was a fiercely spirited woman with haughtiness to match. He was reminded of Maki and how poorly she held her tongue and how easily she took the lives of men. This Matsu was comparable in only her fiery attitude.

"Are you finished indulging yourself?" Kishou spat. "You should know your place as one whose importance is of little consequence to the world outside of this place's walls."

The swordsman stomped towards the open door. The young women that stood in his way sheepishly cleared from his path. He turned and cast his baleful gaze towards Mameha. "You will treat her delicately. Should Amore be mistreated in any fashion, I will raze this building to its foundations- beam by beam, nail by nail."

The door hissed as Kishou forcefully slid it shut. He stormed away and let out a deep sigh to settle his racing heart. He raked a hand through his hair and scratched the top of his head. As he returned to his room, his stomach sank. Losing his temper wouldn't serve either of them well. They had truly lucked out at the opportunity.

Unlike Amore's room, his had no windows. Kishou sat on the floor and looked at the wall across from him. The first thing he saw was another tapestry. Grumbling, he jumped up and turned it around to hide the emblem. He sat down with a huff and waited for someone to retrieve him to begin his work, whatever it would entail.
 
Amore could feel herself growing small among the sharp conversations flying about as arrows on a battlefield. Blades between warriors. Only these weapons were words and their provenance a culture she was still coming to terms with. The Priestess remained silent during the spat, her brow drawing in at Kishou's spiteful tone.

She couldn't understand most of what he'd said, but she'd never heard him speak like that before. Of all the things that could have discomforted her in this situation, that was the only one that did.

The door smacked shut so abruptly that she startled, nearly knocking over one of the younger girls in attendance. Mameha immediately went into chastise Matsu who scoffed, threw open another sliding door leading to a courtyard behind the teahouse where she disappeared in a flutter of colorful silk.

[Now let's see ...] Mameha turned back to Amore, handily checking her over for appearance, [a bath to start. Scrub until her skin is pink.]


The entire day went on like that. By the time the sun set, Amore felt raw and sore all over. Between the rough scrubbed bath, intense manicure, and merciless hair combing and setting, she wasn't sure how she would ever find enough comfort to sleep for the night. Though she was perfectly exhausted.

Kishou, on the other hand, was set to work doing manual labor. First on the stage floor applying wax to the wooden panels, then in the garden courtyard moving large wagons of mulch and tending to the flower beds. Finally he was sent to unload a large delivery of rice and grains to the storehouse. It was a full day of back breaking work before he was released to wash and join the other workers at their evening supp.

He would find Amore eating quietly, looking quite weary, but dressed in clean robes with her hair pulled up into smooth working knot. To her one side sat one of the younger girls, assisting her with the meal and guiding her hands to where each item was placed. The girl could not have been older than 7 winters but already she spoke like an adult and composed herself with a great deal of restraint. To become Yisha was a lifetime of work that started very young.

Amore slowly engaged with her tea cup, letting the steam soothe the sore skin of her face, and felt Kishou take the empty seat to her other side.

"I was concerned they might off you in the back and keep me here forever," she admitted to him over her tea, "I am glad it is not so."
 
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The stench of lacquer from mending the stage stuck to his hands, and though he furiously scrubbed at the end of the night, it clung to him tenaciously. The palms of his hands were dried and cracked as he finished tending the gardens. His muscles screamed as he dropped the final sacks of grain and rice, and his first steps upon delivering the load were on shaky legs. These things were often carted across the city, but the warrior was allowed no such convenience and he carried his haul in a towering stack.

As he bathed with the other workers, all of whom were there for a variety of reasons, rumors and whispers were birthed. Who was this tall man? They whispered about the image of a malevolent deity tattooed to his back. They whispered about his several scars. Kishou ignored them and thoroughly cleaned the dirt from under his nails.

He approached Amore and her attendant with a stiff gait. He greeted the young girl with a lazy half-bow before sitting.

"Hmph," he split the grilled fish in front of him with the tips of his chopsticks, "I'm not so easily killed. You look tired."
 
"I am only teasing..." Amore added gently at his gruff reply. Of course she expected the man to put up a great fight against such an assault - she remembered his abilities to defend himself and cut down his enemies well. Yet that was before, when he'd been fit and well prepared, with his deadly swords at hand. Now? They had been traveling on meager rations for some time. Neither of them were at the strength they were before, and neither of them had deadly weapons to wield.

She offered him a quiet but warm smile, leaning to lightly nudge her shoulder into him, "In all my years as a Priestess I have never spent so much time preening or being preened. It's like they wished to scrub the foreign right off my skin."

["Rice,"] said the girl to her other side, gently taking one of Amore's hands and guiding it to take the bowl, then relieving her other hand of the tea and replacing it with chopsticks.

["Thank you, Una,"] Amore replied before turning her attention back to Kishou, "I was asked to perform some of my songs to Mameha and Master Kei. Mameha did not seem pleased. ...but what of you, they must have kept you busy..." she could smell the lacquer and mulch on him.
 
A wry smile drew across his face. "Perhaps they sensed that our journey has been long. When was the last time either of us has had a proper bath?"

Kishou took a bite of fish and rice, and swapped his rice bowl for one of soup. He sipped it and let out a content sigh. Much better than the water that they called "soup" at the temple.

"Mameha is a bitter crone. Master Kei is at least open minded, if nothing else." He sipped again. "Not as busy as you. I tended to some things here and there, and then made deliveries. I got to see the city and talked to the workers who have been here a while to learn more of recent events."
 
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