Private Tales Port and Portents

[Ispir Sione]

When Ispir had heard there was an opportunity to work with the Dreadlords as a translator, and remembering what Zinnia had told them, they had thought about trying their hand at something other than playing music for once. Life was meant to be experienced to the fullest after all, right? What they had NOT expected was to be nearly apprehended and told to wait in some boring office with nothing to do but count the cracks in the wall. They had even confiscated their instruments!

Now pouting a supremely displeased pout Ispir would plant their chin in a palm and drum their fingers impatiently into the bench they sat upon. Deciding that, if nothing else, they hadn't taken away their voice so they almost stubbornly began to hum a tune to themselves to pass the time. Aquamarine eyes narrowed and mood thoroughly soured as they bristled like a kitten that had just had it's first bath and now sat, grumpily, on the towel while waiting for itself to dry. Fierce, intimidating and daunting in every sense of the word.... truly.

As Ispir heard the door open he would sigh and adjust his cap, the tension in his body relaxing a bit as he drew his gaze up to a blonde haired woman and switched to crossing his arms defiantly. Letting her initiate the conversation since he was still technically here for a job....

Evaine​

 

[Evaine]

"What is this?" the Dreadlord remarked openly, bluntly, and gestured at Ispir Sione. Her hard gaze landed upon the bard like a cinder block and with about as much empathy as one, too.

"Your translator."
"It's a child."
"It speaks the language."
"This is a joke."
"I didn't think Dreadlords had a sense of humor."
"I don't."
"Good, cause I ain't jokin."

There came a pregnant pause as the woman's aura seemed to permeate the immediate area between herself and the broker, making a nearby candelabra wilt to the point of several flames fizzling out with a hiss.

Evaine turned her steely gaze to the Bard with dull and silent displeasure. There wasn't enough time to find another translator so there was nothing to be done for it. An slow, irritable sigh formed in her chest and escaped through her nose on a grumble.

"Keep up," she said to the Translator and promptly turned on her heel to walk right back out the door.

 

[Ispir Sione]

The short man before Evaine would only deepen their completely serious pout at being called a child of all things! That cinder block gaze earned a very stubborn huff and adjustment of the bard's cap. Even though, admittedly, the blonde haired blue eyed woman was rather scary. Even to make Ispir swallow nervously despite his displeasure.

As, after a pregnant pause, the woman seemed to accept his help Ispir would hop up and hurriedly retrieve his instruments. Scampering after Evaine with hurried steps as he retorted.

"Gosh it's no wonder you guys have struggled to find a translator for so long."

Averting his aquamarine eyes Ispir would glance only briefly up at Evaine and adjust the strap holding his harp to his torso as he mumbled.

"Zinnia was definitely a lot nicer....."

Shaking his head Ispir would suddenly dart ahead of Evaine, crossing his arms and staring up at her, vibrant aquamarine meeting ice cold blue as he gulped noticeably and set his thin shoulders.

"Hey, listen, if.... If we're going to work together then we should at least know each other's names. And I'm not a child I'm just short! My name is Ispir and I'm a bard, minstrel and wandering entertainer."

Blinking up at Evaine, and now able to get a better look, something about Ispir was.... Off? But not "wrong". If anything quite the opposite. The short bard was, quite frankly, beautiful. Impossibly so, perhaps even uncannily. A complexion that royalty would pay fortunes for, eyes as vibrant as stars in an empty night sky, absolutely no asymmetry to his face whatsoever. No doubt a boon when it came to wooing crowds and performing but almost like watching a living portrait emote when meeting their gaze so directly.

Uncanny appearance aside Ispir would hunch up their shoulders before offering Evaine a hand to shake, taking the tall blonde woman's 'child' comment as a direct challenge for the usually free spirited bard to try and be..... Professional.​

 

[Evaine]

Words pelted after her and bounced off her in the same way that raindrops did when hitting duckback oiled canvas. Evaine either was not listening or did not particularly care what the bard had to say, and very nearly bowled the child-sized not-child over when he stepped in front of her.

She did stop. A trampled translator wasn't much use to her, so at the very least she had to ensure he stayed relatively in one piece. As for names?

The impassively irritated expression spoke far more than the woman ever would. Dreadlord stared down at Bard, the glint of humanity that most people held in their gaze missing from her own. His pretty face, his perfect skin, none of it meant anything.

"Captain Coltair," came Ispir's answer, and she pushed past him without any motion to take that proferred hand. It was more likely she'd break it off, truth be told. He didn't need a hand to translate. Instead her boots pressed onward toward the shipyard where their ride out of this hovel and to their destination would soon be setting sail.

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would almost make a completely befuddled squeak of a noise as the woman gave a terse answer and then nearly pushed him over to walk by! Blinking rapidly and blushing at the sheer rudeness Ispir would go still for a moment, considering if this job was truly worth the promised pay and to even give this mean woman a piece of his mind!

But after thinking for a second and trying to be more mindful Ispir thought to himself that for him to be grumpy like her was probably what she wanted anyways! Let alone scaring him off the job! Well, childish or not, an impish stubbornness settled into Ispir's heart and he once again scampered after Evaine. Falling into step silently beside her for a long moment, wrangling his own emotions in silence before he took a deep breathe.

Now that he had taken a moment to think things over and not meet grumpy with grumpy he instead decided to be a little mischievous and so his metaphorical counter-punch to Evaine and her attitude came in the form of.....

Spoiler: An Absolutely cheeky, obtuse smile

.... before they asked slowly.

"So.... your parents named you 'Captain' "?​

 

[Evaine]

"No," replied the woman without missing a beat.

She wasn't even looking at him. Her? It didn't really matter. Her boots pressed on in much the same way they always would. From one mission to the next. One destination to another. No distractions, just the goal. Pausing only as a carriage drove across her path, Evaine moved through the crowds like a snowplow cleared throughways. It wasn't so much a presence that parted the people but simply the manner in which the Dreadlord cut through without pardon or care.

A wind whipped up as she rounded the end of a large row of buildings and turned down a set of salt-whipped wooden steps where an armored Anirian guard met her half way.

"Captain, we have the maps you requested."

"Good," she said without stopping, "brief the translator when we get on board."

Ahead of them span the docks and the many larger ships sitting out in the deeper waters of the bay. A large row boat with several others bearing uniforms or armor bearing the Vel Anir insignia of the Western Army could be seen just down the pier.

The guard paused as he reached the bottom of the steps to look back up after the Translator but all he saw was a small boy, "Did you lose them in the street, Captain?"

"No," she echoed back, making her way down to their departure boat.

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would hold their cheeky smile for a moment before giving a small wiggle, eyes closing, and puffing up a bit. His point made, or so he thought, despite her curt reply. As she strode onward Ispir kept pace relatively easily, they were very agile after all, so despite Evaine's height advantage with a hand planted firmly on their cap to keep it in place Ispir simply hummed a tune to himself as they went along. Admittedly he wasn't used to bowling through crowds or walking through little old ladies crossing the street like Evaine was but he wove and ducked, apologizing as he went, staying apace with her all along.

As Evaine rounded the far building Ispir was hardly a step behind her. So much so that as she had her exchange with the soldier the man would turn around to look at Ispir all but in the face.... or at least his forehead. Ispir, heaving a quick huff of a sigh, would cross his arms and pout up at the man.

"Okay what gives? There's no way NONE of you have seen an adult my height before. "

Scooting around the soldier to continue walking Ispir would tug his cloak more tightly around himself as a breeze off the water swept by, mumbling to himself as he went.

"More like the TALL-lords of Vel Anir if you ask me....."

Grumble grumble.

joining Evaine on the row boat Ispir would plop down beside her and check that all his instruments were fastened securely, then closed one eye and stuck out his tongue before looking up at the evening sky, and shrugged as he couldn't see the stars yet.

Evaine​