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 Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2014 7:00 pm
“ .. I think not.” There is a clatter, a thump, and a loud, irritated squawk which can only come from one of the many rooks which seem to have taken up residence in Palisade, following their human companions from place to place. The sound — once unheard of, now becoming more commonplace — may and may not draw attention, though the affronted tones of the human are certainly entertaining in comparison.
“If he wished you to have such things, he would have provided them. I am certainly not going to return you dressed up like some child’s idea of a fancy toy.” The tones are severe, and yet almost parental: the stern tones of a father admonishing an older child who has pushed the envelope one too many times.
The squawk repeats, now indignant but followed by a resigned mutter, and a flutter of movement as the rook glides from the stall and onto the shoulder of her current companion may catch the eye.
The gentleman is tall and lean and moves with an easy grace, the sort of man who looks as if he knows how to dance and would be quite good at it. His clothing fits him exceedingly well, and if it is not made from the finest materials, this speaks of a man with plenty of coin to spend. In fact, there’s a gleam to him, a shine, like he’s spent more time in front of a mirror then any handful of lasses. His hair is warm in color and smooth, his skin unblemished, and there’s hardly a hair out of place anywhere.
The only odd note is the rook on his shoulder, a cream colored bird whose berry-dipped tail doesn’t match the warm browns of the man’s outfit. She is familiar .. too familiar, perhaps. And with her presence anyone who knows her may find in the gentleman’s features something to call to mind the features of a pair of much younger fellows with a somber family name.
Shaking his head slightly, and much to the displeasure of Unwelcome, Jacob moves away from the ribbon seller. Honestly, what kind of bird is this? Does his brother actually regularly indulge her by buying fripperies?
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Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2014 10:59 pm
The gypsy moved quietly through the market, eying the shops wares around her without any particular interest. Her journey was largely undisturbed in no small part thanks to the large stag walking next to her. He was a solid and reassuring presence in her otherwise changed world. It had been nearly two weeks since that horrible night. Nearly two weeks since she had decided, at Soibhan's urging, to take a break from it all. Nearly two weeks without any spying or stealing or traveling or rigorous training. She had taken up a few singing gigs for flavor and to keep from going stir crazy, but for the most part her life had consisted of a lot of self-reflection.
It was not the most comfortable of activities. Unfortunately, it seemed that she really could not go on without it anymore. It had turned up some less than pleasant realizations, perhaps one or two depressing ones, and one which was painfully bittersweet...
Though she thought she was beginning to heal, the gypsy was not feeling quite up to rejoining the world yet. So, when she heard a particular squawk and saw a familiar flutter of feathers, she almost turned right around and left...until, that is, she saw that the rook was not with First. Nor was she with Last or Rosalie or even Georgie. Instead, she seemed to be keeping the company of a man that they gypsy had never seen before. A man who bore a striking resemblance not only to the twins, but to Georgie, as well.
She studied him. He was older than any three of them - perhaps her age. He also looked considerably more respectable than the Grimms that she knew. Posh, Rajani suddenly recalled. That's what First had called him. Oh, yes. She knew exactly who this was, and she had a few words to give him about sticking his nose into her business or, more to the point, messing with her people.
Whether she was supposed to be taking a break or not, Rajani straightened minutely before making her way straight for him.
Oberon was not entirely pleased with the prospect of his mistress meeting this man, but knew he had little choice in the matter. Instead, he determined that he would make certain to do everything in his power not to let the man harm her in any way. Hawthorn, as though sensing the sudden change in his companions, fluttered down from his perch to land on Rajani's shoulder.
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Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2014 10:47 am
Yet Jacob Grimm, foreboding though his presence may seem, does not appear the sort of individual who would wish to harm her. If not for his relation to other Grimms of her acquaintance, she might have marked him as the sort of man who would not even have wanted to strike her, for fear of dirtying his gloves — yet he moves easily through this lesser market, though there is no doubt that he could if he so desired afford to browse the more expensive shops in the cleaner areas of the city. He pauses at another stall, to select and pay for (without haggling!) a handful of small crab-apples, their pale green skins causing some excitement from Unwelcome. She will waste no time in begging for a bite, so that without seeming to acknowledge her, he takes a knife from his belt and begins to carve small chunks off, which are offered to the bird on the tip of the blade. Rajani’s approach will be noted as she draws near: it would be difficult for anyone to miss Oberon, and Guardians thus gifted as he rarely fail to draw attention. But when the eldest Grimm glances in her direction, his bland gaze neither complimenting nor decrying the impressive buck, there is no spark of recognition, no sudden start. His gaze passes over her, noting the protective stance of the buck, the presence of the rook on her shoulder, the determined cast to her features, and then moves along. It does not even occur to him that she may in fact be headed towards him .. .. not until he looks sidelong at Unwelcome, who has huddled down on his shoulder with every feather on end. He stares at the bird, vaguely concerned, and the follows her gaze to the gypsy. Now he looks more closely at Rajani, his expression carefully blank.
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Posted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 3:13 pm
It should not be so terribly difficult to add up the facts - a gypsy with a strapping stag for a champion, a gypsy which Wellie happens to be familiar with and does not seem too pleased to see at the moment. Truly, how many such women could there be? Even now that Guardians were becoming more common, Guardians like Oberon remained a rare sight, indeed.
The brief thought that this might not be the wisest course of action does flit through Rajani's mind. She does not know this man, but she has heard enough of him to know caution should be used. However, she is already set on her path and he has already seen her. It would be counterproductive to turn back, now. Besides, she had always planned on introducing herself. Her days of avoiding trouble were long since gone.
Perhaps Soibhan was rubbing off on her.
Regardless, the instincts that had been nurtured in her since birth had broken their chains and reared their heads at last. Whether she concerned him or not, Rosalie was hers. He had no right to go around playing with her head and trying to frighten her into behaving as he wished. If he wanted to speak to her, he could bloody well go through Rajani first. It was about time he learned that.
"Jacob Grimm, I presume," she said after she had gotten close enough to be heard without shouting.
Wellie's reaction to her did make her a bit sad, but it was certainly not unexpected. Not after everything that had happened. Neither would it stop her from having this conversation with the eldest Grimm, even though the rook might like her even less by the end of it.
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Posted: Fri Feb 07, 2014 8:16 pm
It is in fact Unwelcome who answers first, going from a puffball of feathers to completely slick, standing close enough to Jacob’s cheek that she presses against his ear. Her voice is low and mournful, as if she regrets the part she’s played in these dramas, though surely she can’t really understand it. ... can she?
”Yesraj,” she answers, and it is not altogether clear who she is answering, or if she is even calling, asking, trying to understand what it is that has come between the gypsy and her witch. Whatever the case, it is plain that she's taken a shine to the elder Grimm, enough that she'll willingly accompany him out, and even beg him for baubles.
“So I am,” says the taller man, crabapple still in one hand, pocketknife in the other; he cuts the apple down the middle, neatly, then segments it again and regards the quarter thoughtfully. “As you are Miss Rajani of .. the knives, or so I have been told?” There is no smile, no mockery, but perhaps this is what he has been warned to watch out for: her temper and her skill with bladed instruments. He bites crisply into the apple quarter, and is somehow still able to speak easily. “Might I buy you a drink, then, while you threaten me? We have much to discuss.”
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 6:04 pm
To call it a smile would be generous, but the gypsy's look did soften slightly for the rook. Such a pity she seemed to keep finding herself at cross purposes with the men the rook was so fond of.
If she were in a more pleasant mood, she might have found humor in his description of her. Rajani of the knives, indeed. As it stood, she found a certain kind of grim satisfaction in the title. It was certainly accurate enough, if nothing else, though she had to wonder who had been telling tales.
Regardless, she was no thick headed bully-boy to go making scenes in the middle of the marketplace, and she would rather have at least a moderately more private conversation. Besides, there was no reason they couldn't be civilized while they exchanged words. However irritating this man proved to be. "I don't make threats," she corrected. "But a different venue might be more appropriate for our...discussion."
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Posted: Fri Feb 14, 2014 11:42 am
“Indeed,” says Jacob, with what could be — in the right lighting — something like a smile. It vanishes quickly, leaving him looking contemplative once more as he expounds upon his answer. “That I have heard also, that you are more a believer in inevitabilities rather than bluffs. I believe I saw a comfortable tavern a block or so back, or there is an open space around the corner, if you would prefer to keep the company of ..” He pauses, then with a frown makes a nod in Oberon’s direction. “My apologies. It occurs to me now that my sources of information are rather poorer than I realized; I do not know your name, sir.”
Unwelcome, busily pressing into Jacob’s hair as if trying (and subsequently failing) to hide amongst his gently curling locks, pauses as if indignant. Perhaps he has asked her before, and she is now irritated that he should forget the answer, but the bird’s correction may explain Jacob’s very real ignorance on the matter. “Obbie,” the rook tells him, then follows this up with a jay’s scolding cough. “Obbie!” The eldest Grimm, for his part, looks somewhat pained. Apparently whatever he and the gypsy may have between them, he does not feel that it is adequate excuse for undignified ill courtesy, and he has no intention of addressing Oberon by this nickname.
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 12:28 pm
The stag, for his part, sent a rather cross look at the rook. He despised the nickname, and the fact that the bird insisted on using it was only further proof in his mind that the twins had not ceased its use, either. One more mark against them.
Rajani seemed a little despairing of Wellie's insistence as well. "Oberon," she corrected. Not that the stag couldn't speak for himself, but he was generally not inclined to speak to much of anyone save Rajani herself.
They shared a glance, and she recognized the stubborn glint in hie eye. "I'm sure the tavern would be more comfortable, but I'm afraid he's going to be difficult," not that comfort had anything to do with the conversation they were liable to have. However, Jacob Grimm seemed civil enough thus far. Perhaps they could conduct their affair without violence - just an exchange of terms, as it were. Unbidden, her thoughts flashed briefly to her father and his way of getting what he wanted out of an arrangement.
She pushed the memories aside and added, "Most taverns allow Guardians."
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Posted: Fri Feb 21, 2014 7:49 pm
“It is never easy, when they come into our lives, is it?” His voice is quiet, and he looks directly at Oberon — the words are no accusation, no insult, simply fact. His question having been answered, he chews another apple quarter thoughtfully and shrugs. “Let us go sit around the corner then.” A gesture with his apple will show her the way, and with that he will walk along beside her, never ahead, never behind. He will pause to pick up pies from a street-seller, great big flagons of sweetened juice .. a delicacy in this area .. from another. He makes certain both times that either she or Oberon can see what he is doing, and will offer her her choice of the two items he purchases, all without saying a word. The space he had indicated is surprisingly empty for this area of the city, but as it contains the crumbling ruins of a house said to belong to a cursed family, this is not particularly surprising. Entire masses of pigeons seem to have taken to the structure with great determination, and a stray dog slinks out of the shadows as Jacob waves her and her stalwart protector toward a crumbled wall which can serve as a comfortable enough seat.
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Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 8:59 pm
"Few worthwhile things are easy," she replied. Though the words were her own response to his question, they would remain with her. Something to reflect upon in more than one aspect of her life. For now, she considered him more closely.
"You speak as though you know what it means to have a Guardian or a familiar," she said. "But I see no such creature with you." Nor, in their brief mentions, had she heard of any such beast from the twins. It was not impossible that he had one elsewhere, but... "You should take care not to speak too familiarly of that which you have not experienced for yourself."
Though he was still displeased at the notion of his mistress eating anything provided by this man, Oberon could not object that the food was any more unsafe to consume than anything she might have purchased herself. He allowed their small party to be led to that secluded area...though he might have preferred more witnesses for the encounter.
Hawthorn, for his part, fluttered to a higher perch than the gypsy's shoulder and eyed the pigeons balefully. His feathers fluffed and he bated a little; cawing a few times in quick concession, he heckled the nearest ones into moving farther off. Then, he settled down to watch the people below.
Briefly, Rajani considered refusing the seat - she had a certain amount of restless energy, yet; particularly since it did not seem they were headed toward any immediate physical confrontation. However, it would be more comfortable to eat sitting...if she found herself with an appetite anytime soon. Regardless, she sat. No need to appear nervous in front of this man.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2014 8:02 am
“I have not been so blessed, no.” He offers her a smile, almost in apology, and will sit once she has done so, quite as if she is a lady of quality. “But I have seen what it has done to my siblings. I have had a closer view than most of what it does to a life, by watching them, and sometimes it is hard to watch. Wilhelm has never wanted anything but to be a captain on a ship, and yet he has not been to sea since Dapplegrimm came into his life.”
He has no such compunctions about eating in front of her, though the first crumbles he offers to Unwelcome, who is slowly settling, less nervous. There is no shouting, no slapping, no rush of fear from her witch: it must be all right, then, mustn’t it?
“Yet he will not speak ill of her, nor allow anyone else to do so, no matter that she has cost him his dream.”
(Wilhelm — Wilhelm — the name may give her pause, unless she has had the occasion to listen to the story about why the second-eldest Grimm is called what he is, but the context here may give her enough clues to add them all together. Only one of the Grimms has gone to sea, and that would be Ghastly; Ghastly, called thus because (as he puts it in a firm voice), ‘Wilhelm’ is a ‘Ghastly’ name.)
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Posted: Tue Feb 25, 2014 6:23 pm
If he hoped to impress her with fancy manners, he was pandering to the wrong woman; and if such manners were his habit, as she suspected they were, then she remained unmoved regardless.
Whether she had heard the name before, the sentiment remained the same. Either way, Rajani was not surprised. There were a few cases of mismatched Chosen and Guardians, but the majority had a bond stronger than most people could ever hope to experience in a normal life. Her own near-disaster during Oberon's birth had signaled what was essentially the end of her career as a burglar; but it was nothing she regretted. The gain more than outweighed the loss. Besides, it was not as though she didn't get a little practice every now and then. If only so she didn't lose her edge.
She shrugged. "We all make sacrifices for the ones that matter most," she said. It stood true whether the important person was man or beast. "It sounds to me like he has his priorities in order. Though I know a pair of sailors who are Chosen. They hadn't given up the sea last I'd seen them."
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:14 am
“Perhaps their boon companions are less .. willful .. than Lady Dapplegrimm.” Since, at least in Jacob’s opinion, they could hardly be more so — the Grimm men seem to have a distinct knack for attracting the attention of willful females, for good or for ill. But he doubts very much she has pulled him aside to gossip about Guardians and their whims: he feeds Unwelcome another handful of crumbs, watching the bird attempt to keep them both in view as she eats.
“I understand I have done something to displease you?” He introduces the topic casually, as if he may have erred in some inconsequential, accidental way: not greeted her at a party, or neglected to invite her to a dinner. Surely he knows the extent of his transgressions, to have referred to her as he had from the beginning; Rajani of the Knives. Someone must have warned him of her temper, and yet he buys food, he sits with her, he talks in an ordinary fashion, without anger or fear. Yet the way that he talks, one can hardly imagine him raising his voice or becoming upset over anything, even should she have resorted to the use of those knives.
Then again, considering his high manners, when dealing with most folk, he wouldn’t need to. Merely the appearance of wealth and higher status would put folk of her — and Rosalie’s — class ill at ease.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 5:46 pm
The gypsy was not entirely certain about how willful the Guardians in question may be in comparison to Dapplegrimm, but she was hardly in the mood to discuss semantics. Each Guardian was different. It was as simple as that. What worked for the relationships between some bonded pairs might not work for others.
If all of their small talk had succeeded in doing anything other than give her a little firsthand experience with Jacob Grimm's mannerisms, it was perhaps to annoy her. After all, however heavy a hand chance had in fashioning their encounter, she had approached him with a purpose. Up to that point, she had allowed him to steer their conversation until they were dancing around the topic without ever actually approaching it. Yet here he was, putting an end to that and asking her to get to the point. It was...quite irritating.
However, far from being thrown, Rajani welcomed that comfortably familiar emotion, let it warm her and sharpen her focus. She had a bone to pick with this man. "That's one way of putting it," she said, her gaze narrowing on him. "I'm sure you already know exactly what you did, but I'll set it out for you plainly.
"You paid a visit to Rosalie Satre. She was very upset. I don't like it when strangers go around upsetting my people."
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Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2014 5:57 pm
The tip of his head as she speaks suggests acknowledgement rather than agreement: yes, that is in fact what he thought she’d been upset about. It would distress at least one of his siblings to hear it, but he had doubted First would play any pivotal role in this conversation. Yet he takes a moment to answer her, taking a contemplative swallow of his drink before he proceeds to address her concern. “I will say that I am sorry I did not speak to you before I undertook my conversation with Miss Satre, but I will not apologize for what was said to her: for every word, I have my reasons.” He accepts without question that Rosalie is her people, as if the two of them -- though neither holds formal title -- are military commanders, responsible somehow for the safety and security of those they have collected around them.
And it was certainly out of place for him to speak to Rosalie without first clearing it with Rosalie's commanding officer, so to speak, but as for apologizing about what was said, or for speaking to her at all ..
“As you yourself have said, few worthwhile things are easy — what most needs to be said is rarely what is most comfortable to hear.”
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