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 Posted: Wed Apr 21, 2010 2:31 pm
  This is a private roleplay between Ishtar [Faylun] and Nilgün [Mriae].
Setting:
Outside of a circus tent.
Two old enemies reconnect after the last show of the day.
The night is new and calm, the grudges less so. Blackmail and black razors, what will happen when the secrets spill?
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Posted: Wed Apr 21, 2010 3:11 pm
Ah, the tantalizing breeze of the night.
Ishtar stood in the backstage doorway of the performance tent, hidden in the shadows. She stood there for a while, watching the crowds disperse after the last show of the day. Her eye twitched as she saw a child toss a bag of sweetmeats to the ground, whining unintelligibly to his mother.
Rich kids. They have no idea what they really have until they lose it.
It wasn't as if Ishtar was jealous of their wealth--in fact, she found them quite careless. No, she just hated the way that people took everything for granted--especially Nobles.
Shaking her head a bit to clear away her dark thoughts left by drink, Ishtar tried to lose herself as she gazed up at the sky. The stars were very faint, completely outshone by the scintillating lights of the circus. Ishtar could understand how they felt, sometimes.
Standing here in the shadows, she smiled inwardly as people passed by. Nobody recognized her--the star of the show up until a few minutes ago. Her very last show, and she had tried to make it her very best. To them, however, she was merely a fleeting entertainment. After her performance, the applause was thundering, but now...
Forgotten by the crowds, Ishtar stepped out into the alleyway, her dancer feet light and graceful on the pavement. Suddenly, a scent hit Ishtar's nose. Not quite fruity, not quite flowery, it reeked of something rotten. Or Noble. Probably both.
Wincing, she brought her silky, translucent sash up to her nose, shielding it from the sickly-sweet smell was wafting towards her.
"That's so disgusting. What is that smell?" thought Ishtar out loud. Her voice, throaty and musical, blended in with the crowded noise of the street.
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Posted: Wed Apr 21, 2010 4:16 pm
It had been a while since the circus had come to the city, so she would have been lying if she said she hadn't looked forward to going. Whenever the band of Lunarians came into town, the Persian girl and her grandparents always made sure to be in attendance. It was a tradition of sorts, although rather trivial, that they had started when Nilgün first came to live with them. Out of all the things they tried to do for her as she grew up, this seemed to be the most effective way of getting her to open up to them. So, when she got older, naturally they asked if she wanted to continue attending. Both Nadira and Firuz expected their grandchild to say no, but surprised them both by saying the opposite. She did, indeed, want to continue, and thus there she was.
She was waiting outside the circus tent for her grandparents. The two elderly Lunarians had seen some old friends of theirs inside, and were making casual conversation with them. Before she left the tent, Nadira told her that she could head on back, but she decided against it. Nilgün didn't mind waiting, especially on nice nights like today. They were the perfect ones for standing around and just basking in the evening breeze. Unfortunately for the Legionnaire, that perfection was interrupted.
An all-too familiar voice resonated through her fins. No -- no, it couldn't be her, could it? Surprised by the throatiness and musicality of the Lunarian's vocal chords, Nil immediately turned her head in the direction that it was coming from. She knew that voice. All too well, as a matter of fact. It belonged to none other than her infamous rival, the pretty young Ishtar. She should have known.
"Well, well, well..." the pink haired girl chimed as she saw her old childhood companion, "fancy seeing you here, Ishtar. You've made a personal lifestyle change from the last time I saw you, I see." It was a cruel, harsh remark, but not completely unnecessary. The two girls hadn't exactly been the best of friends growing up, and as evident by the tension Nilgün was experiencing, there was still some bad air between the two of them.
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Posted: Thu Apr 22, 2010 5:00 pm
Ishtar's eyes narrowed. She had never liked the Persian Lunarian--strike that, she absolutely hated the girl--and seeing Nilgun at the circus the night of Ishtar's demise, simply poured salt onto the wound. Part of Ishtar wanted keep a cool mind and turn away, showing that Nil's words were no more than petty trifles. However, that was definitely not Ish's style.
She stepped up to Nilgun, nose up in the air. Drawing herself up a little bit higher, Ishtar was glad that over the course of the years, her height advantage had not changed. Though she no longer towered over the blue Lunarian, Ishtar still managed to hold an imposing air. She was, simply, taller than Nilgun.
In some cultures, the taller you were, the better you were. Smirking a bit at this thought, Ishtar ran a hand through her soft, dark tresses. Her hair, unlike Nilgun's, was loose and floating around her face. It added to the underlying ferociousness of Ishtar's voice.
"I'm surprised to see you here as well, Nilgun. I should have recognized you by your...interesting...hair. Or the reek of your perfume, as well. But, I digress. I thought you would run out of that disgusting hair dye you use, eventually. I was wrong. Brightly pink as ever, I suppose," Laughing softly at the word "pink", she reminded herself that in the years past, the joke had become old. Still, a jibe at Nilgun's natural hair color never failed to rouse up their old hatred. It wasn't as if Nil ever failed to mention anything wrong about Ishtar's appearance.
Ishtar let her thoughts drift back to a few years back.
Standing slightly away from the street dancers, a young Ishtar--then called Mirit--- watched them avidly, mouth agape. Her short, close-cropped hair was held firmly to her head with a patched, slightly crooked cap. A bulky jacket covered her slender body, hiding her curves while still managing to show the sorry state of her clothes. From anybody's point of view, Mirit was a boy. A small, beggar boy, who sat on the ground with his hands tucked firmly in his pockets. Every once in a while, however, the "boy's" arm would snake up to an unsuspecting audience member, captivated by the dances, and snake back down, hands clenched with something sparkling or papery.
This had been going on for a while. Mirit was proud of the fact she could be a part of the group she admired so much, and help them. Up until the point, however, when a small girl, around her own age, pointed to her with a disdainful finger. The girl's pale blue skin was clean, and her hair perfectly coiffed into a curly, bright pink side ponytail. The servants--they could only be such-- around her turned toward the direction of her manicured finger. The little girl was, indeed, the complete opposite of Mirit, whose dirtied face and scrawny form hid her away from suspicious eyes. Still in the shadows, Mirit tilted her head away from the girl, making sure the servants couldn't see her. Standing up slowly, she was prepared to run.
"I saw her! I really did! She was stealing!" the high-pitched, slightly whiny voice of the girl screeched.
The beginning of the end, Ishtar thought as she returned back to the present. The Nobles had sent guards and spies among the streets, making sure that complete order was there. The dancers simply could not survive on tips alone, and so, Even then, she managed to indirectly kick me out of me home. thought Ishtar, her soft mouth pinched in a hard line. She certainly had a reason to despise the Persian Lunarian...and forgiveness was not quite in Ishtar's nature.
She looked behind Nilgun, noticing the crowd that had begun to form around the two gorgeous Lunarian girls. Good, an audience. All the better for Nilgun Raad's demise.
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Posted: Thu Apr 22, 2010 6:36 pm
She should have been intimidated by Ishtar. Should have been intimidated, and should have known when to just take the higher ground and back off, yet Nilgün was neither of those things. The Middle Eastern Lunarian didn't scare her. If the wine-colored woman didn't scare her as a child, she certainly wasn't going to scare her now. The only thing she seemed to have going in her advantage was her height, as she always had. Ishtar was too tall, in her opinion. Much, much too tall.
A sarcastically amused chuckle escaped the blue Lunarian's mouth. Oh, her childhood rival always knew just what to say. "There's no need to be jealous of me," Nil told her companion with an absentminded twirl of her finger around a lock of pink hair, "just because my hair color is more exotic than yours. Then again, it's also understandable..." Her voice trailed off at this. Who wouldn't be envious of her hair color? It was an adorable hue, slightly similar to something along the lines of either cotton candy or bubble gum. Ishtar's own hair had improved over the years, so really she had no reason to make fun of her. Old habits died hard, the Legionnaire supposed. The circus performer would always take a jab at her if she could.
The dancer wasn't the only one who had noticed the crowd. Nilgün had noticed it as well, her coal-colored orbs blinking a bit at all the Lunarians gathering around him. An audience? Really? That was a bit unnecessary. With the gathering of people young and old, however, came the exit of the Persian's grandparents. Wonderful; her cue to leave! God must have been smiling down upon her that evening, and in her mind the girl thanked the Divine Power. While she could have stayed and chatted longer with her old friend, at the same time, Nil didn't want to be caught dead with her. It wouldn't end well in the end, so better to just back out while she still had the chance. "That's my cue," she couldn't help but murmur before walking over to her grandparents' side. A pause came before she would go off with them completely, followed by the turning of her head. As she looked back at Ishtar, all she said was this:
"It's good to have you back in the Imperial City. If you ever want to chat -- you know where to find me."
That was that. She didn't even bother to give the former street urchin the satisfaction of giving an answer before she disappeared from sight. Showing kindness toward her was never really Nilgün's thing, especially given their history together. The fact that Ishtar was also back in town - new and improved - would prove interesting as well. One thing was for sure: the pink-haired young woman was still the queen of the Imperial City, and there was no way she was going to let anyone, not even a former street-rat turned bombshell, stand in her way.
It just wasn't going to happen.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 7:56 pm
"...Then again, it's also understandable..." Nilgun's voice trailed off.
Jealous? fumed Ishtar. Jealous?!? Me? In truth, she was a tiny bit envious of Nil's curls, so unlike her own mass of unruly waves. Still, thought Ishtar as she ran a hand through her silky tresses, Nilgun shouldn't be so...lofty about such things. Nobody's perfect, least of all her. Maybe it's time for someone to take her down a notch.
Pursing her lips, Ishtar said, with just a hint of venom, "Honey, if there's anyone who understands exotic, it's me. Believe me, your hair is anything but."
The crowd around them was starting to dissolve, disappointed by Ishtar's answer. Obviously, it didn't sting her companion as much as she thought it had. Ishtar noticed Nilgun stealing a glance behind her, and she turned around to see who the blue Lunarian was looking at. Ishtar was surprised to see Nadira and Firuz standing behind some other commoners, their arms crossed across their chests, with an annoyed expression on their faces. Well, this could only mean one thing. If Nilgun had managed to reconnect with her grandparents, it meant that she was no longer a petty Noble child, daughter of a pair of rebels.
Nilgun was now a Legionnaire, which basically meant that no matter how much Ishtar detested her, she couldn't raise a hand against her...right? It might also mean that...she changed for the better? thought Ishtar.
Nah. Too much to hope for.
Ishtar still held a hatred towards Nil, no matter what alliance she was in. And Ish was going to do something about it, sooner or later, to find out if Nilgun had truly changed.
As Nilgun walked off, Ishtar was even more surprised to find herself not stopping the Persian. What on earth had happened to herself? For a second, Ishtar was sure that she could strike up some sort of action from Nil, some sort of drama that could help her forget what had happened with the performance a few hours earlier. But somehow, over the due course of years, Nilgun had developed a frosty exterior...that had enabled her to walk away without even a glance back at Ishtar. Very, very odd.
Ish's dark, wine-colored eyes narrowed as she called out, "I'm sure we'll run into each other again, Nilgun." And I'll find out if you've really changed...
Turning back to go to her tent as well, Ishtar started to formulate a plan. A good one---one that required a blade.
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Posted: Sun Apr 25, 2010 12:09 pm
The Raads walked back to their tent in relative silence. Well, Nilgün was the one who was silent the most. Both her grandma and her grandpa chatted casually amongst themselves on the way back from the circus. Their granddaughter just listened as they talked about the day's events, mostly the circus and how they saw their old friends. A pause came in their conversation, however, when the topic of interest changed to the dancer the young Lunarian girl was talking to in the alleyway.
"Nilla," Nadira asked gently, using her pet name she had given her granddaughter, "was that Mirit you were talking to back at the circus?" The elderly priestess blinked at the Academy student and waited patiently for an answer before adding, "She's changed quite a bit, and has grown up nicely." The young Legionnaire couldn't help but scoff at this, which only got her a disapproving look from her grandfather. Firuz nodded to what his wife said as the three of them finally approached their home. "Mirit does look like she's doing quite well, especially since she was able to get off those horrid streets. I'm glad for that."
'That makes one of us...' the warrior in-training thought to herself coldly. While her grandparents were pleased to see that Ishtar was doing well for herself, she couldn't really care less. In fact, she was less than amused to see her old childhood friend. The last time the two had been together was when they were, what? Three, maybe four years old? All she could remember was that she was still with her parents at the time when she caught the purple Lunarian stealing from a cart in the market. Ishtar never forgave her after that.
Oh, well. She was going to try her best not to think about her rival anymore. It was late, and she had to be getting ready for bed. The last thing she wanted to do was to go to sleep with someone like the circus dancer on her mind. Yawning, Nil pulled the hair tie out of her hair and let her bubblegum pink locks fall down past her shoulders. She then went about her normal nightly routine as she did every evening: take down her hair, brush it, wash off all of her make up. A brief pause for prayer followed after that, led by her grandfather. This would be the last of three prayer times that the family would do that day. With her evening prayer out of the way, the young woman then grabbed her journal to write in an entry about the day's events. She wrote about Ishtar, mostly - her feelings about her, about how she was back in town, and about how things probably wouldn't be going over well between the two of them. There was no way they would.
Journal entry out of the way, Nil closed it and put it back in her secret spot where no one could find it. There was no way she was going to let anyone see her deepest, most intimate thoughts. Talk about an invasion of privacy. The moon was high up in the sky by this time, a few soft beams of moonlight falling in through a few cracks in the tent. Another yawn escaped her, and that was the Persian's cue to call it a night. As she crawled into bed, she couldn't help but sigh with a soft smile. Sure, she may have gotten into it slightly with Ishtar earlier in the day, but tomorrow would be better. It always was.
Little did she know, however, how wrong those thoughts actually were.
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Posted: Thu Apr 29, 2010 3:33 pm
The night was slowly beginning to slide into day. Ishtar had only a few hours, tops, of darkness before the sun would rise and ruin all chances of successfully completing this mission.
Strangely enough, she felt like a ninja---secretive, shadowy, and focused. Her body was tense with excitement as Ishtar crept through the streets, her bare feet barely making a sound as she ran towards the Raad tent. Ishtar's unruly hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail, high on top of her head.
Nothing, least of all a few strands of hair, was going to get in her way---very ironic, seeing as what she was about to do.
Her fingers reached toward the thin, sharp razor slipped between golden layers of metal. Her bangle on her left hand slipped off, revealing a thin strip of metal tied to her wrist. Taking care not to cut herself by accident, Ishtar pulled the blade out. Glancing at it's smooth, refelctive surface, she noticed that the dark eyeshadow around her eyes had smeared. Just a little bit, but enough to give her a haunted, sallow look. Ishtar hoped it wouldn't be permanent. Lunaria forbid that she wake up with bags tomorrow underneath her eyes...
As she neared the Raad residence, Ishtar heard noisy, heavy footsteps sound behind her. She dived into the safe, shadowy shelter of a nearby doorway, and narrowed her eyes as she saw a heavyset man pass by. He looked somewhat familiar...
Suddenly, a light turned on behind her. Ishtar slowly closed her eyes, the black switchblade--the one she had just slipped out from her wrist a few seconds ago--dropping to the floor with a loud clang. She had been caught...
Turning around, Ishtar met a face none other than Nadira Raad herself. With a confused, slightly bewildered expression on her face, Nadira Raad, grandmother of Nilgun Raad, opened her mouth to speak.
"May...May I help you, young lady?"
Strange. Nadira didn't recognize Ishtar. She didn't scream, and she didn't whack Ishtar with the candle in her hand, either. She merely stood there patiently, a bemused expression on her face, waiting for Ish's reply.
Her face burning, Ishtar shook her head. Her hair still piled up in a high ponytail, her eyeshadow still shadowy and smudged, she turned around and slipped away, leaving a very bewildered Nadira Raad in her wake.
Have I failed? It was a question, a single phrase of self doubt, that constantly raced through Ishtar's mind as she walked home.
It was only up until Ishtar was halfway back until she realized that she had dropped her razor, the most essential part of her plan, in the doorway of the Raad home.
s**t.
She would have to go and get it. That razor was actually pretty important, and Nilgun would, if she ever found it, recognize the letters on the handle of the blade as Ishtar's initials.
Turning abruptly around, Ishtar prayed that Nadira was asleep, or at least back inside the Raad tent. Ishtar found herself walking faster than ever, and she slowly broke into a run.
The sun was coming up--she needed to find that razorblade no matter what. Ishtar couldn't give up this mission. She had to prove to Nilgun that between them two, Ishtar was the better Lunarian. I will make it to the top, Ishtar thought to herself. She was tired of other people lording it over her, constantly bringing her impoverished past to light.
No, this time she would prove herself to be just as good--or rather, bad--as any Noble-raised Lunarian.
Ishtar found herself by the Raad tent again, her razor still on the ground by the entrance. Picking it up, she looked slowly around. Time to complete her mission.
Slipping into the tent--silly Raads. Didn't they know better than to simply put a piece of cloth as a door?--Ishtar located Nilgun almost instantly. Smiling a bit at her good fortune, Ishtar walked, no, glided over to the sleeping Persian. Her hand instantly went to one silky, pink lock of hair and picked it up.
Taking the blade in her hand, Ishtar set to work. It was almost daybreak, but Ishtar knew that she didn't have to rush...now.
Piece by piece, long, curling tresses--the color of bubblegum or cotton candy--fell to the ground at Ishtar's feet.
Long live the queen.
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