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 Posted: Tue May 15, 2012 4:54 pm
Drustan cringed at both Mrs. Grint and Kalend's accusations. Though the physical barrage had ceased, he still felt somewhat attacked. And while he could rather understand it from Kalends, who he viewed as a peer or sorts, it was incredibly embarrassing to be told off by his housekeeper in front of his guest. "Mrs. Grint, I apologize for frightening you." He said in the most composed manner possible. "As you can see, my guest and I are not breaking any laws, as this is indeed my own house. Will you please brew us some tea and light some more lanterns." His tone was firm and Mrs. Grint, though not one to quail easily, obeyed albeit with a rather puffed up chest and indignant air. As the lights were raised it became clear that actual familial relations between Gideon and anyone else in the house was unlikely. The boy was incredibly fair of skin and hair and dark of eye with a fragile, bird-like build.
"Gideon, come here." Drustan summoned the boy who, he now noticed, was clutching his plagued doll. "I would like to introduce you to my friend Kalends. Kalends, this is Gideon. He has been in my care for a very short time. The matron of the orphanage he was living in began insisting that he renounce his plagued item and once brought to my attention I could not countenance such behavior. Plagues are precious, after all. As are those of us chosen to look after them." He said this last with a faint smile at Gideon, who didn't seem to know quite whether to scowl back at Kalends or not.
"God sent Drustan to rescue me." The little boy finally said defiantly. "God killed my family but not me, and then he sent Drustan after me." While not necessarily a wholly accurate accounting, this was the rather skewed way that Gideon had begun to view his situation and he was apparently willing to speak of it quite bluntly.
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Posted: Thu May 17, 2012 11:49 am
"It would seem orphans are quite drawn to you." Kalends muttered. Drustan seemed far more at home in this situation than Kalends himself was: perhaps it was due to the fact that the merchant was in familiar ground, but Kalends was not that used to speaking kindly with those whom he had just been involved in combat with. He supposed that perhaps this was one of the many differences of the cultured and the less polite.
"Still, well met, Master Gideon." He pushed his own wandering thoughts aside and inclined his head at the boy, thinking for a moment of extending his hand and then using it instead to brush some shards of pottery and dust off his front. Figuring that Drustan would probably rather it not be known to his ward that he was consorting with a thief, Kalends tried not to act too guilty. He had no idea what impression he was giving of the kind of people that Drustan kept company with, but he did his best to appear somewhat presentable. When the child said that God had sent Drustan after him, Kalends' mouth quirked. "I imagine you and your plague are no doubt more comfortable here."
Kalends couldn't imagine that this was a very normal conversation, given either of their states, but he attempted to act the part of a good-- if not eccentric-- acquaintance.
He looked up at Mrs. Grint, aware that the housekeeper probably did not look kindly upon him for disturbing her slumber. "I suppose I owe you an apology for the state of your kitchen, madam." Kalends was really no good with humbling himself, and without further pressing by an outside party, this half-sorry statement would probably be the best that he would be able to offer.
It took a moment for Kalends to realize that Drustan had called him a friend.
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Posted: Sun May 20, 2012 8:55 pm
Drustan was in familiar territory in more ways than one. Part of growing up a Carmody was learning the necessary ability to handle oneself well in chaos. Especially since the Carmodys fed upon chaos in both their dealings with each other and their business dealings. It was uncertain whether their membership in the House of Obscuvos caused the family's affinity for stressful situations or if the love of sowing discord had caused his mother to initially be drawn to the cult. Either way, when everyone around him was confused and off-balance Drustan often felt the most comfortable.
His lips twitched in a smile as Kalend's commented on orphans being drawn to him. He supposed it may be true, though he was the one who had sought Gideon out. Gideon appeared to have given up his scowl and was now peering curiously at Kalends. "It's very nice here. Nicer than the orphanage. Did you teach Mister Carmody how to break in the house? Could you teach me how to do it?"
Mrs. Grint, still in a huff, did not acknowledge Kalend's apology, but she did stop slamming pots and cups around and instead brought over a tray with two steaming cups of tea on it. "I'm going back to bed. You too, young sir." In a last bid to show she still had some power around the house, Mrs. Grint took Gideon by the ear and hauled the protesting child out of the room with her.
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Posted: Mon May 21, 2012 6:02 pm
Unlike his host, Kalends did not have an affinity for chaos. He sat back and watched as the boy and the housekeeper disappeared back to their quarters for the night, feeling somewhat out of place. In his home city, he could vanish into alleyways to get away from the mess caused by an incident, but here, he had to endure it. The thief cringed inwardly, missing the safety once accorded to him by Edgecrest's streets, safety that seemed far away.
When asked about teaching Gideon to pick locks, he'd offered a silent shrug. Kalends very much doubted that Drustan would want him corrupting his ward. Still, the fact that the boy seemed so at ease made Kalends reconsider his thoughts on the House. Drustan had granted him shelter when he needed it; the merchant even taken in an orphan boy. Though Kalends was aware that Drustan was a wily businessman, the thief was also coming to respect him from another angle. If this was the type of person that the House attracted, then perhaps Kalends himself might find sanctuary there.
After Mrs. Grint and Gideon had left, he looked warily at the tea and then back at Drustan. "That woman is almost as fearsome as an angry guildmaster." Kalends shook his head. "Never have I seen a frying pan handled with such mastery. Even without locks, no thief with any sense would try this house if he knew what dwelt within and awaited him. You have a fierce housekeeper..."
His sentence trailed off, as though he was going to add an epithet, but had stopped himself before doing so. Instead, he stood up and stretched, taking a moment to assess the damage to the kitchen. Kalends was aware that this was fairly significant--and while if it had been anyone else's house it would not have mattered-- the fact that Drustan had taken him in in his moment of panic and even bothered to make him comfortable and spent (what Kalends had to admit was) an enjoyable time breaking into his own house...Kalends felt something in him twinge. But, having been trained to ignore emotions like that, he tried to pass it off as uneasiness.
"If it's any consolation, you were pretty decent for a beginner lockpick."
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Posted: Fri Jun 01, 2012 11:51 pm
Drustan surveyed the wreck that was the kitchen, though he didn't feel any particular twinges of guilt. He had no intention of helping Mrs. Grint clean it up in the morning, whatever the lady herself thought. While he enjoyed her company and trusted her discretion, she was still a servant and below him. She could enlist Gideon's dubious help if she wished. At Kalend's comments regarding how formidable she was, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, shrugging a little. "She is certainly protective, it appears. To be honest, after the death of my first housekeeper here my mother sent Mrs. Grint to look after my house. She lost her family to the plague and managed to get herself rescued by my mother." The way he said the last bit regarding his mother made being "rescued" seem like a rather dubious honor. "Apparently Prybridge is supposed to be her fresh start in life. I think she used to be married to a baker. Maybe thats why she's so good with kitchen utensils."
He grinned at the thought and his grin grew wider as Kalends complimented his attempt at lockpicking. "It was fun. More fun than I've probably ever had before. Next time maybe we can just warn Mrs. Grint ahead of time so she doesn't get so... violent."
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Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2012 9:38 am
The corner of Kalends' lip twitched at the way that Drustan said that Mrs. Grint had been "rescued." Circumstances were different for everyone, but as a young boy he too had been rescued in the same sense by his locksmith mentor. The smile on his lips turned slightly rueful. "It's not exactly uncommon for those down on their luck to be picked up by people in power." His tone was neutral, but his eyes betrayed a steeliness, a wariness. When Kalends looked more closely at it, wasn't that what was happening to him right now? Was he being acquired, rescued in a sense, by Drustan himself? Kalends had lived most of his life as a property, a tool of his mentor. Would this alliance between himself and Drustan be different?
The thief shook his head. He'd been breaths away from calling the other man a friend, a name that he had been loathe to use ever since his mentor had impressed him with the number of times friends betrayed each other, used one another in bids for power. Somehow, he did not want to think that way of Drustan. Kalends pushed the thought from his mind. He would see this as a debt, he decided, just one more thing to be repaid after a moment of his own weakness.
Though, he had to admit, it had been fun. "Yes, though I don't doubt her skill, I imagine your kitchen will thank us if your dear housekeeper is well-informed beforehand. Although," a thought struck him, and Kalends toyed with it for a few moments before finishing his sentence. "If the kitchen no longer presents a challenge, perhaps we could move onto something advanced, like a bedroom window. If memory serves, you seemed quite adept at chasing me up a warehouse roof. A house's wouldn't be much different."
He stretched, feeling overcome with a sudden weariness. The offer of a place to sleep was becoming more and more tempting. "But this might be enough thievery for one night, I think."
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