Private Tales Fresh Prince of Vel Anir

[Isla]

Her face softened when Lynus finally began to talk- talk to her like a person. It had been a long time since someone had. Isla would cherish the rare moment of humanity. She listened, quietly taking in the details of him for the first time as he spoke of his childhood.

He slouched slightly, as if his shoulders were being held down by some invisible burden. He didn't look old, but appeared troubled beyond his years. Faint lines etched on his face told her of his weariness and despair. A darkness beneath his eyes spoke of restless nights and, for a moment, Isla wondered what haunted him. Though his lips twitched into a smile, his gaze seemed so distant, so sad. So detached, lost in a spiritless world of his own making.

His laughter startled her as she stared a little too deep into his distant gaze.

She refused to answer his question aloud, but accepted the half-hearted offer as well as the drink as she sat beside him.

"Were you a knight?" She broke an extended silence, one he'd probably looked forward to after their tense meeting.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus let out another quiet laugh at her guess, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. "No... I wish I was," he replied, his voice tinged with a distant longing. Things would have been much simpler..

He shifted the conversation, diverting it back to her, intrigued by her story and the mysteries she held. "How'd you end up here?" he asked, the question coming out a little more bluntly than he'd intended, causing him to wince slightly at his own lack of tact.

"I mean... You may not be wealthy now, but your family weren't poor... Not with a piano and sheet music." he pointed out, raising a curious eyebrow in her direction as he swirled his drink and took another long draw from his glass.

 

[Isla]

Isla had wanted to probe for more information, wanted to ask just was he if not a knight? A mercenary perhaps? An assassin? No, he did not appear to be very light on his feet when he came trudging in the establishment. Not everyone was gifted in the element of stealth. Unfortunately before she was given an opening to ask, he had moved on. And boy had he decided to pick a sore subject.

And with such little tact and so much judgment in his tone.

"You are correct. I was not born into...this..." She gestured around her, some of the amber liquid splashing from her glass onto the couch and Lynus' cheek. "But I have been here for a long while. Ten years, if I remember correctly." The hint of bitterness in her tone matched the way her lips twitched downward. "My father was a merchant here in the city, actually. When I was a child at least. We had a manor, servants, and the most beautiful ebony piano imported from Elbion. Ohh..." The bitterness faded and was replaced by something akin to awe as she spoke of the instrument. "It was huge and so glossy you could use it as a mirror. I doubt they have anything close to its beauty anywhere else in the city- even in the palace.

"You asked about my past, though. Not my mother's pride and joy." She took a sip and shuddered at the burning in her throat. "Yes, my father, he was a merchant. And a colossal idiot who let whatever polluted his mind to be spoken far too loudly. People had no interest associating with a lunatic and without business..." She shrugged. "He died. Drank himself to death. And my mother never quite recovered from any of it. Sent me here the day I turned eighteen so that I might provide an income to take care of her and my two younger brothers."

Of course, she omitted, they had never spoken to her again after the day she left.

"Money was good at first. Though I'm not sure if it was because people wanted to sleep with a noble girl or a final 'fuck you' to my father." She tipped her head back, emptying the glass completely before going for a second.

"Your turn."

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus listened in silence as Isla recounted her past, her words painting a vivid picture of a life torn apart by unfortunate circumstance.As she spoke of her father's downfall and the subsequent hardships her family faced, Lynus couldn't shake the feeling of remorse gnawing at him. It was as if he had opened a wound that he had no business touching and her bitterness was palpable. The splashing of the drink onto his cheek went unnoticed as he remained lost in thought, grappling with his own discomfort at the situation.

As she turned the conversation back to him, he felt a familiar reluctance settling in his chest. The alcohol had loosened his inhibitions enough to ask probing questions, but it had not yet granted him the courage to share his own struggles. He had no desire to burden her further with his own troubles, especially after what she had just shared. But he also couldn't bring himself to lie or deflect the question entirely.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he met her gaze. "I didn't mean to pry. I..." He trailed off, his words faltering. His gaze dropped to the glass in his hand, the swirling amber liquid a silent reminder of the numbing effect of alcohol. Taking a slow sip, he gathered his thoughts.

"My past would bore you.." He offered her a small, apologetic smile. "My parents are.. overbearing. Controlling. They don't agree with my current choice of lifestyle.. I can't seem to fucking escape." he snorted quietly. Until now.. If they'd known where he was right now, he could only imagine their.. upset.

"Woe is me, right?" he glanced at her and took another drink, his eyes growing drowsier as the room started to shift. He laughed under his breath. "I sound like an entitled prick.."

 

[Isla]

"It is fine." Isla's smile was pained and her words laced with bitterness that proved anything but. "I suppose it was almost cathartic to recall my old life." Almost. Or maybe not at all, for only a moment after spilling bits and pieces of her life to the stranger, she wanted to vomit. Vomit at the pain of old wounds torn open once again to reveal all the horrid, disgusting things she to herself in order to provide for the people she loved. The people who abandoned her.

She needed his voice to distract her from her own self-loathing, but would find it short lived and disappointing. She would not accept it. Not after he left her strip herself down to nothingness in front of him while he remained an armored, guarded fortress.

"I did not ask if your past was boring." She took a sip from the glass, a pale pink lipstick stain left at the rim as she set it back on the table. Having to reach over for it every time she yearned for a way out would slow her down. "If you think your parent's disappointment in you makes you an entitled prick, than that would make two of us. Do you think my mother is proud of me? My lifestyle?"

She did not answer, but she gave him a moment to stew on the question. "You've given enough gold to keep the room for the day and night if you so wish, but you will not be sleeping until you and I are even." She grabbed the glass again, moving closer to him in the process. So much for moderation. "So, if you were not a knight, then what were you? A mercenary?"