Da Capo [ Treno, Open ]

[Kuja]

Surprisingly enough, the city was still dark. Despite the unexplainable state of Gaia, something had remained as it was. Should he have been so surprised at this fact? He wasn’t sure, but either way, the evening sky blanketing the bustling little city of Treno was… Comforting. He hadn’t come all the way down here just to inhale the scent of the night, though. He had business to take care of in Treno, and with his palace completely waterlogged, he would also need to take up residence in his Auction House. Tents simply weren’t cutting it.




“Auction man,” The heavy doors of the auction house swung open with a grand gesture, and Kuja strode his way across the polished floors, arms outstretched to further accentuate his arrival to the only other occupant in the room. “I have returned.”

The suited auctioneer turned away from the podium he faced with a start at the sound of this announcement. He seemed more confused than expected, his thick brows furrowing in effort to recall just who this familiar intruder was. It wasn’t that Kuja was a man easily forgotten, of course… But the mage’s efforts to hide his identity for the time being had seen him garbed in one of the last things anyone would expect to meet him in; A white mage’s cotton robe. The disguise, although slightly ironic, seemed to be working. “The Auction doesn’t begin until the hour,” The toady man spoke, clearing his throat to sound a little less puzzled than he was. “Please, wait outside until we commence.”

“No.” Sliding the hood away to let it drape at his shoulders to reveal his distinctive face and hair, Kuja gave the noble a condescending stare. “I require the use of this house once more… I expect my room prepared for my return by this evening.”

“Ah…” the man’s expression changed considerably, apparently a mixture of surprise and nervous dread. Subconsciously rising his hands in defence, he gave an anxious laugh, watching the mage inspect his way around the auction floor. “K-Kuja…! What a surprise. We, erm… We weren’t expecting you back so soon…!”

Pausing mid-step, Kuja arched a brow. “…It’s been two years.”

“Already?” the auctioneer stammered. “Well, I mean… Ah! So it has. Eh heh. So, what brings you back here after all this time?”

“I require lodging, if I hadn’t made it obvious by requesting my room.” His fingertips drummed impatiently against the brass backing of one of the chairs.

“Of course! Of course… There’s… Just one slight problem with that.”

He knew it. “What have you done this time?”

“Well… business has boomed for Kings Auction in the last… Well, two years or so. And especially lately what with the sudden population increase…” The auctioneer mopped his brow with the handkerchief from the pocket of his suit.

“Go on…”

“…So to keep up with demand, we’ve had to increase our stock…”

Kuja frowned sternly. He knew where this was going “So… You’ve turned my quarters… Into storage.”

“…Something like that.”

One of the feathers in his hair ruffled itself out of place. “Did it not occur to you that I might want to come back here!?” He snapped, gripping the back of the chair tightly enough to carve small scratch marks into its surface. “What with my investment into the running of this damned place and everything!?”

“E-eh, well, no…” Understanding the danger which could come from insulting the flamboyant mage, the Auctioneer began backing himself behind the podium in case the chair he was gripping to was suddenly hurled at his head. “You see… After all the chaos that went on, with the mist… Then when you didn’t come back that year… Not to mention all the recent activity… To be quite honest, we all thought you were…”




Dead. They all thought he was dead. The porcelain cup almost shattered with how hard Kuja lowered it back to the table he was seated at. Unbelievable. He left for two years and suddenly everyone assumes him dead!? Gazing down at his reflection in his cup of Burman coffee, a solemn sigh escaped his lips. Was he really that dismissible? It wasn’t as though he really cared, of course… He didn’t really want to go back to the state he was in two years prior. That was why he was going about his journey as incognito as possible, but still… It bothered him.

Café Carta was his usual leisure spot. He had missed it and it’s coffee, and even though the regular customers and staff no longer recognized him under that red and white hood, the way they continued to shoo away vermin such as the poor or questionable managed to bring a faint smile back to his face. Ah yes. Some things would never change with the state of the world. As long as the sky above remained forever night, Treno would remain Treno. Fingertips curling around the smooth handle of the cup and bringing the coffee back to his lips to take another sip, Kuja decided he would linger in this city a little longer (once they finished clearing the worthless junk out of his room) before he continued on his way to his ultimate destination—The Library of Daguerreo.

“Ah, Daguerreo…” He murmured to himself. “If your wealthy spoils have since been lost… This world’s fate, I shall ac—“

--CRASH--

This thoughtful musing was disturbed by a sudden commotion outside the café window. Although not usually not one to rush up at such things, Kuja was already standing, having leapt up to avoid the spill of his coffee, the majority of which now lay spattered all over the floor and the trim of his robe thanks to getting startled. “…Eugh.” Ignoring the hushed muttering of the other patrons, Kuja stepped around the small, alcove shaped café to view the street outside, and the exceptionally rude individuals who had come to disturb his relaxation; a red-haired female youth, and a half crippled elderly man.

“Cafés are for lounging, not for providing aesthetic stages for scuffling by.” He scolded, gaze drifting between the two as he awaited an answer. It was, he noted, one of the odder match ups he’d seen in his lifetime… But so long as the price of his coffee was refunded, he reminded himself he could care less for such activity.

[Aschen Windseer]

Not that the brawl had gone unnoticed too long. After all, the entertainment-needing people of Treno couldn't help but notice when a skimpily-clad gypsy girl first took notice, then flew into a violent rage at an older citizen in heavy cloaks. The large amount of obscenities spewed in the gypsy language obtained their attention, before the girl high-kicked her target straight through the front window.

"Ey, sorry 'bou'tha', ya?" the gypsy begun, suddenly as sweet as could come, having taken the decency to wipe his (her?) feet on the welcome mat as he took the door. "Ah'll fixit fer ya. Official buisness, though. It'll just be a wee bit."

Aschen's search for his clan had not been going to well, even though the cheerful expression on his face said otherwise. The stolen information from Balamb Garden had allowed him to identify the location of the Mist Continent cities where the carnival used to stage their shows, which had allowed him to contact some of those who had to remain behind in the cities to raise small children. But still, not much in the way of actual hints were provided. Seemingly, the Mognet Central was having problems adjusting to the new world's configuration.

"Miss Windseer! What are you doing, and why are you dressed that way?" a burgeois asked the gypsy with the wierd forehead.

Aschen's stauch accent was reinforced as he spoke quicky, on his way back to his target. "Height o' fashion in th' new world, useful too. Excuse me. Sorry ta you too, madam. I'm almost done." was offered to Kuja in the same tone, as he passed the mage.

And, cute demeanor and politeness was replaced by a petty fit again on the drop of a second, as Aschen reached the 'old man' and resumed the task of persuading him of something - whatever it was - through force of obscenities - some now recognizable - and several deft kicks to the soft parts. A final thud, and the elder moved no more. At least not without moaning painfully. So, Aschen sat on his lap, and begun fumbling around. Just as two ladies in the back begun discussing how wrong it was for a budding young perfumer to injure an older man - even if a pauper - like that, the right piece of cloth was pulled, revealing a strapping young bandit in disguise. And Aschen giggled in delight.

"Found it! Blessed by th' Goddess, ah've gottit!" Aschen squeaked, nearly dancing with excitement, raising a pair of cloth bags above his head, one obviously filled with illegal intoxicants. "Found th' stuff 'e stole from the guard's incendiaries, drugs are bad, mind you. 'Is purse..." After scuffling a bit more on his broken quarry, Aschen pulled out a bag of gold, and dropped it on the bartop. "Tha' should pay fer the window, anythin' tha' is broken or spoilt ('xcept for th' evenin'), an' some o'tha' cake ya got. Anyone 'ere wantin' t'buy some of my perfumes, ignorin' my part-time 'ere as a bounty hunter, gets a discount on special orders, OK?" the gypsy announced to all, flipping up the table his fray had knocked over. "Ah'll sit 'ere for a bit. Don' worry 'bout th' crook, 'es out. 'Ear' tha'?" he turned his attention to the unconscious victim of his thighs, whom was now doused with a perfume that hided his scent to even the most sensitive. "Don't wake up now, or ah'll poison ya."

"Lady Poison..." one of the younger customers begun, pulling on the sleeve of the bounty hunter's jacket, as (s)he sat down on the table that had cleared. Without another word, the youth pointed at Kuja, leaving Aschen with a slightly intrigued, preoccupied look on his face.

[Kuja]

Kuja liked a certain degree of order. He liked it when he knew what was going on and was able to accurately guess what was most likely to happen next. It saved a lot of effort in life, and made it easier to keep his constantly smug poker-face constantly smug. This was why he took to chaos relatively poorly. And a gypsy girl straddling an old man she had just beaten to the ground, then producing a few satchels of hallucinogens with a street value likely higher than his own certainly fit the bill of ‘chaos’.

The coffee stain down the front of his robes was temporarily forgotten, as the mage observed the entire debacle with a firmly set scowl. Just as he’d started to feel the closest thing to being ‘at home’ he’d felt since before the Desert Palace became the Subterranean Palace, Treno had been turned on its head. How long had such things been going on here outside of the slums? Vile one sided fights? Such language from the young? Drugs? (Well… In all honesty, he knew about that, as did perhaps a lot of the aristocrats living in The Sleepless City) He shouldn’t have been so surprised, he supposed… Why, without himself to provide an outstanding example for the citizens to look up to and admire, it was no wonder the occasional ruckus would begin...

It did surprise him, however, that he was among the watching nobles who seemed to recognize the gypsy in question.



Despite having most of his mind reserved for remembering things advantageous to his own gain, Kuja was rather good with faces. He could recall the face of someone whom had had the audacity to glance twice in his direction, or even the features of those hideous rat people sent scurrying from their desecrated home (if he so wanted to). Those green, distracted eyes, rounded cheeks and dark skin. Yes, he’d definitely seen her before, but as to where abouts… That would be something he would need to figure out later on. For now, his primary concern was the writhing of his tail, and how it was becoming problematic.

…His tail.

“….Curses…” He uttered, leaning heavily back against the closest wall, which happened to be the countertop itself, trapping the tail to remind it that it didn’t exist, and that the fine fur upon it should stop bristling at such wafting scents. Once again though, the tail wasn’t listening to the rest of him. He wouldn’t be able to move from the counter for a moment… So he would bide his time with idle chit chat.

“…Perfumes, you say.” Although he hadn’t yet turned his gaze toward the table the youth had set upon, it was clear enough where his voice was being directed to. Most of the patrons had gone back about their own business of gossiping about one another, tutting at the apparently unconscious thief and embellishing their own conquests, and the poor café owner had set about collecting the money for damages, and cutting the requested slice of cake, so he assumed there was nobody else listening. “Might I inquire as to what sort of cocktail an apparent bounty hunter might brew in her perfumes…?” Whatever it was, after all, had disturbed his tail quite considerably… Furthermore, it might be implied that the mage was referring to the drugs held so triumphantly all of a couple of minutes earlier. Whatever the case, he was sure to keep a cold and impersonal tone about his inquiry. After all, he wouldn’t want to be suspected as an interested customer.

[Aschen Windseer]

"Thanks, cheif!" Aschen chirped again, accepting the slice of cake on the table he had so innocently swept away from Kuja. A bite was taken, and an evident squeak and expression of pleasure crossed the gypsy's face. Although savage by nature, this one had learnt full well how to behave in public, when one ignores the clothes and beating given. Now satisfied and relaxing, Aschen's gypsy accent was replaced for a posh and proper royal one, that he used in more formal settings. Still, keeping his gleeful, relaxed mannerisms in check at the moment was a bit hard.

"Actually, sir." the gypsy begun, in a coquettish, humble tone. "Perfume making is my actual, main art. Dancing, acting, and hunting bandits are more like well-payed pastimes for me. Although, sometimes, I'll mix a little something in my perfumes to make the latter easier for me." Remembering this, Aschen checked his small backpack, and placed the 'confiscated goods' inside, shutting it tight. A bright smile was given as a distraction, for however effective that may be. "I do make normal ones too. And since I travel quite a bit, I can bring scents, freshly made at the spot from all over the world. I picked up a few good new ones on my way here. I'm not here for that, though, although I do have some basics on stock and can always prepare something unique. I have cosmetics available as well."

"Anyhow, I haven't introduced myself. Aschen H. Windseer, Perfume Master, sometimes performing as a dancer for the Windseer Carnival." (s)he introduced, raising to give a proper curtsey, although lacking a long skirt for the full gesture. "I'm really sorry if I disturbed you. But this old aquaintance of mine decided to reappear in my life." he said with a harsh inflection, springing out between otherwise pleasantly sweetened formalities. Sitting back down in the chair formerly occupied by Kuja, Aschen continued. "Please join me. Even if you aren't interested in my business, I'd enjoy the company. I seem to have taken the last table, and should repay you for the spilled coffee."

As he looked up back into Kuja's eyes, for the third time now, Aschen begun to feel reminiscent, somehow. The face was familiar, somehow. Perhaps from a performance? Traveling in a carnival, whose all-female cast could adapt easily for almost any sort of show, in any context meant that he had seen quite a large amount of men, and had been seen by them in lesser garments than now. Still, the strange looking person in front of him wasn't somehow all that unfamiliar, even more in the light of his cold, almost pompous demeanor that stood opposite to the warmer, rejubilant one of his people. Life amongst nobles could be fun, but only for a few moments. Hoping that the guards would arrive soon and haul away the crook, Aschen reminded himself that his presence would only be tolerated as needed amongst that crowd, that would only remain amused or astonished by the event for a few more moments.

[Kuja]

A sudden change in accent? Well now, that was preferable. He was having slight trouble deciphering any words the gypsy girl was saying before, despite being a self-proclaimed professional linguist (among many other things). As she continued to speak of her many hobbies, his gaze finally set toward her—And just as quickly, down to his table. The shattered cup still lay littered underneath it. If he had anything to do with it, she would take the fault of that as well; he would pin it on her were he asked to pay any more gil, he decided.

Being distracted by the table, allowed the ‘goods’ to be stored away without much notice to them. He was only half listening to her, anyway, since he hadn’t quite gained any inkling of the sort of answer he was looking for. He supposed she wasn’t about to give away the ingredients to her fragrances… So he would be left with no idea as to which was disturbing his senses. “… I see.” His tail was still worming behind him, although the tingling of risen fur had stopped shivering up his spine, which allowed him some relief.

The rest of Kuja’s waning attention was won as the girl slid from his table, curtsying quite properly much to the mage’s disbelief. Well educated and eloquent, she seemed an entirely different person from no less than five minutes earlier. The polite introduction (and explanation of earlier discrepancies) was almost enough to prompt one of his own. But no sooner had the words formed in his mouth, they were killed off again by the ‘perfume master’s’ latter offer.

“Excuse me?” he scoffed, a single brow arching into a sharp V. “Did you quite honestly just offer me my own table…?” Of course, there was likely no way she would have known that… That was still no reason for leniency. And so so, Kuja found himself begrudgingly lifting away from the low counter as he unfastened the stained white mage robe, slinging it with a swift, and comically grandiose movement straight over the gypsy’s head as he sat back down at his table. “In this case, you will be covering both my coffee, and my cleaning bill.” His tail seemed to appreciate being let up, and so it stilled itself for the time being.

Now, it was onto more pressing matters of familiarity.

“You mentioned the Windseer Carnival…” Although he had only been half listening at the time, the name stuck with him. He had heard of this, had even seen glimpses of it once or twice… Although he was more into the theatre as opposed to circus antics and dance. Eyeing the girl down with cold superiority, his fingers laced together upon the table top. “I’ve seen you before… I can only assume it was there. Perhaps in entertainment for the late queen?” Those last two words were spoken with a notable smug acidity in his tone, quite representative of all the loyalty he had held for that woman… Thing. “But what is more important is whether or not you’ve seen me. Now, if you have…” Slowly, his cy blue gaze fell toward Aschen’s mouth. “You’ll find that your entire troupe may be avoiding a few more familiar cities unless these lips take a vow of silence.”

And all for very good reason. That terrible little monkey would likely enjoy a performance full of women… Kuja couldn’t risk word of mouth until he determined what was going on.

And clearly, the amourous mage wasn’t about to cotton on to the fact that he was speaking to a male.

[Aschen Windseer]

Aschen's face was highly expressive, as supposed from a proper actress. First, pleased at having been understood, then accommodating of laundry duty, to amazed at Kuja's more extravagant clothing. Finally, the threat. Aschen's eyes widened, mouth open in shock. But quickly it shifted to an adoring astonishment of which a squela - although not emitted - wouldn't be out of place. "Oh mah goddess." the 'girl' begun, in a breathless amazement that left him slightly scraping at his normal accent, "You're blackmailing me. That's adorable." And out came a muffled giggle.
"Sorry, that's serious. It's just that I've been wanting to write a story, and needed a plot element. That's it, thank you. But I'm babblin'." Straightening himself out, Aschen coughed, quickly rearranged his permanently messy hair, and tried to look adequately serious, despite gleeful. "We do shows for royal and commoner alike. Serve all, love all. But, you said late Queen. Therefore, if you watched us, it was in royal court. Which means you are somehow involved with royalty. Foreign prince, advisor, merchant. You're too twiggy to be a guard."
As Aschen took apart the threat with surgical precision, his expression became ever more sadistic and petty, perky lips curling up somewhat at each turn of his analysis.
"But you say, if Aschen doesn't open her mouth about seeing me. This means you don't want to have been seen. You done fucked up on something, and have a prize on your head for some reason. You're avoiding authority, but it's because it's an annoyance, not a threat. You're sitting in front of me, knowing full well that I could easily flip this table onto you or poison you. So, you're really confident in your capability of defending yourself. Not physically. But I don't want a fight in here."
Taking a brief bite of the cake, and letting out a cute squeak that breaks the momentum of the conversation, before resuming his chain of thought with the grim demeanor of a veteran detective.
"So, you might be a mage. Whatever crimes could a mage have made in the last few years... In threatening me, you told me a lot more than just that you can harm me, ya know. Staying quiet, you would've just been another pretty face that is lacking in pants. Want me to think some more, or just declare it a stalemate and have a bite of my cake?"

[Kuja]

Crossing one leg loosely over the other to heighten his posture, Kuja could only frown. Was he being mocked? Did it really matter either way? How the conversation had turned so quickly over this, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he had underestimated the craftiness of this youth… He should have known better, what with having noticed the speed she moved at. It was equivalent to the dexterity of a professional thief.

His lips thinned as these assumptions went on, and on. What was perhaps more insulting, was that she was right! This could have easily been avoided, were it not for his own assumption that his escapade was better known than it actually was. She had no idea who he was, that was apparent, even if most of these accusations held some thin veil of truth to them. Perhaps it was safer for him to go along with it…

Go… Along with it.

…Brilliant Kuja. Brilliant.



“…Lower your voice.” He warned, leaning in close to re-enforce the apparent seriousness of their discussions, raising a hand to push the plated cake away from himself in polite declination. “While I find it difficult to believe you, having taken your ‘business’ into this district as you did, wouldn’t wish to instigate a fight with me here, I shall take your words to heart.” He glanced quickly from side to side, verifying that none were apparently attempting to listen into their exchange, then continued in a hushed tone.

“I’m not entirely sure how you’ve managed to deduce my current situation as you have, but I must concede that I’m in no position to challenge it… Though I’ll add that you’ll receive no substantial benefit in turning in my head to the royals, attached to my shoulders or otherwise.” Still, in making his reason for hiding his identity appear all the more embellished to the girl, he was providing little incentive of her keeping quiet, beyond not disclosing his name. Considering this, he lowered his voice even further. “I’m presently on my way to the hidden library—Daguerreo. If you’re a traveller, you’ll surely know of it…”

The point of mentioning this? Well, aside from the ability to cope easily with only himself as company, Kuja preferred to keep some form of hired help. If he could convince this girl to at least go in the same direction as he was headed, he could ensure she wasn’t about to go spurting news of sighting someone with ‘White hair… Strange clothes’ before he was back to potential again. Plus, someone quick off the mark, dexterous and able to create a supply of cosmetics herself could prove useful.

[Aschen Windseer]

The offer was tempting, but insecure. Aschen knew now that Kuja wasn't exactly a nice person. Buisness was buisiness, though, and a pricetag could be fitted to this. Chewing on his fork as he finished the cake, the gypsy looked a bit annoyed, while thinking. "If you were a bounty, ah'd try ta lure y'out first." he said in his gypsy accent, biding some time to think the deal over. "Yer pretty, an' ah'd remember your face if you were on a poster. So relax. Whatever ya did, ah'm bettin' people think ya died or sommat."

Whatever ya did, ah bet you caught 'em with their pants down. Was what he had felt like saying, but that wasn't the time. The secret library of Daguerreo. He had heard the name, but never been there. Having taken a sea route from Balamb to the continent that held the most cities from his realm, Aschen had passed up the opportunity completely, and now was a good chance to make up for it.

Sadly, as he mentally calculated every aspect of the matter, his expression blanked out, as he stared at the tip of Kuja's nose with glazed-over eyes.

"Never been there, but it would be useful for me to look up a few things. If I could accompany you, I can be very useful. After all, I did cross this continent without a single injury." Aschen begun, returning to reality and a noble's accent. "You hire me as a bodyguard, alchemist, acrobat, guide, actress and scholar in botanics, biology and chemistry, to Daguerreo, while there and until any place in these two closer continents. My pay will be a two-way trip to Mognet Central, when I can locate it. I'll need to stay a night here to conclude buisiness, and you're free to stay with my family if needed, free of charge. You provide transport if not by land, and we have to pick up members of my clan until the next city, if we find any. It's part of my mission. I can provide for our supply needs, no charge. We set camp an hour after nightfall, and leave half an hour after sunrise. I need six hours of sleep a night." Explaining this, Aschen removed his backpack and scrounged inside for a new-world map, clearly labeled "Property of Balamb Garden". Several formerly unknown cities had been manually penned in: Bodhum, Albrook, Lindblum, Alexandria, Thamasa, Kazus and finally Treno.

"Rules. First, don't start fights, and let me do the talking in emergencies. I'm a good negotiator. Second, touch my stash or perfumes without authorization, I kick you in the face if you don't end up poisoned. Third, act like a pervert around me, I kill you, or maybe my wife will. I don't like men, even if you're handsome. Fourth, my biology is odd. Gypsy equivalents of Phoenix Down are in this pocket." he added, pointing at a pocket on his left shoulder. "Now, please tell me what you think. Let's make the best out of this for both of us."

Obviously, that brief moment of reflexion was enough to set up more than a basic deal.

[Kuja]

Died. The word resonated over and over in his mind, as though his memory had set out to mock him. Clenching his hands even tighter together, his pale skin grew as white as the shards of china beneath the table. It… Hadn’t bothered him so much before. Of course, he hadn’t thought on death so much since the event of his own demise, and he was half insane, then. So why now?

Why was the realization of his own mortality beginning to bother him once again?

He knew that thinking on it too much would only further diminish the shredded state of his composure, so he turned his attention to the sudden onslaught of demands… Which were beginning to tower up in his face not unlike a tidal wave. How dare this girl think she can order him around like this. How dare she demand he take her to Mognet. How dare she demand such few hours of sleep..!

On the bright side, she had a map. Something Kuja did not.

Leaning over the table with sudden interest, he studied this ‘Garden map’, closely. The landscape of Gaia had certainly changed… Perhaps even more than he’d expected. A larger world was simply a mild inconvenience in traversing it, though. It made it a lot easier for him to hide.

Just as he had gained interest in the map, the rules were washed over him. Did she think he was an idiot? What interest would he have in instigating fights, stealing perfume or acting like a pervert… He only kidnapped women when necessary to his schemes, seduction was somewhat useless otherwise, was it not?

Although, he admitted, he was somewhat surprised to hear she was a lesbian.

“Enough,” he snapped, glaring up from the map to meet her dead-pan stare with one of his own. “…Consider yourself lucky I’m quite a civil person, my temper is more than frayed as it is...” Sitting back against the wrought iron seat, he brought his hand to his temple and rubbed at it, willing away the growing headache setting itself around the left side of his head.
“First of all, your payment is ridiculous… But I accept it. I wish not to waste time in searching for that useless Mognet, so if we come across the library beforehand, you are dismissed and on your own. If we somehow do stumble across it, don’t expect me to accompany you in there, I would rather stay the night in a tent than suffer a minute around those… Things.” Moogles were not his favourite beings in the world. Everything about them simply annoyed him.

“Secondly, your ‘clan’ is your own business. Do as you wish with them, but do not expect me to provide for them, they’re your responsibility. I shan’t associate with them…” Or acknowledge their existence. “Thirdly, I will sleep as long as I damn well please. I require at least two hours to get myself ready before l leave anywhere.” Hair this lustrous was not easy to maintain.

“You needn’t worry about those ridiculous rules, either…” A kick in the face, indeed… Kuja rolled his eyes. “Finding the library is my only concern. I’ve no form of transport off this land, so perhaps stopping at Lindblum would be wisest. Unless you know of another place which deals in airships. For the record, we are to avoid Alexandria at all costs. You’re more likely to get me into Mognet than that kingdom.”

[Aschen Windseer]

This is why I hate nobles. Most of them, anyhow. Aschen thought, with a raised dot-eyebrow at Kuja's tantrum. The pompous attitude and complete lack of respect for the rules of the road were annoying, but understandable. Sighing heavily his disappointment at Kuja, Aschen leant back into the chair as well. Just the fact he had a temper to fray was already bad enough a sign as is.

"Th' payment is a ticket, so keep your pants on. Even if we did go there together, ah wouldn't want you nearby while I did my buisiness." Aschen said, with a slight chuckle as he joked next in his usual gypsy accent, "But good t'know ya'd stick to deals. An' ah'm sure th'mogs like ya too. As well as other gypsies. I actually tend to like nobles and higher-ups like yourself a bit. Here's t'thinkin' tha' you'd see how setting firm rules before hand and making concessions allows for a clearer, easier deal for both parts. You're too prissy to have been a real negotiator, at least. Ah'm th' best, an' ah know it."

"But, puttin' aside all that, ah am worried." Aschen said, tone changing adequately to his expressed preoccupation. "Unless y'can sleep in a moving cart, in which case it's OK, yer beginnin' t'show some serious lack of experience with land travel. Nothin' wrong wi' that, tho'. Sure we don't have to stop - or come close to Alexandria, ah already understood that. Travellin' over land is hard business as is. I have the unique edge tha' neither beast nor bandit would bother us. Not many escorts can offer that. If we were to pass near Alexandria, we might not need to spend th' night in a tent. Field rations aren't as good as you'd get with a full royal entourage, but y'can't get 'em, can ya. Up north? We might be good, dependin' on how fast we go. These sattelite pictures 'ere..." and onto the table came some more pictures of the new world's cities, taken by orbit, and again, labeled as Property of Balamb Garden. Aschen had been busy! "This one here up north seems to be our tech level. Maybe we can get an airship. Maybe. But the next two stops are at a shanty town and what might be a tech level under us. Let's see if we're lucky. What do you think?"

[Kuja]

What did he think? Well, for starters, he thought it incredibly odd that the girl kept changing accents. Was there any particular reason for this? Was it habit? Or was she just a really strange person. Either answer was fine, he’d met stranger people, and gotten used to stranger patterns of speech… But he could already tell this was going to annoy him until he could determine the answer.

He also thought it quite amusing that he was judged inexperienced with land travel. Did that mean walking? Because… Yes, in that case. He despised walking for too long. Flying was much more efficient, but it wasn’t an option unless he was able locate a silver dragon… Improbable, after the business in Memoria. Perhaps a weaker dragon would do… He did have an affinity for the beasts.

“I think I’ll be leaving all of this organization to you. My only concern is getting to that library… And now that I’m thinking about it, I’ve determined that as long as I get to the library without going through Alexandria, I could care less about the journey.” This suited Kuja just fine. If he was going to ‘hire’ this gypsy to lead him to Daguerreo, he might as well entrust her with the details. At this point, he had nothing to lose either way.

Pushing up from the café table, Kuja swept his hair back over his shoulders, and offered a faint, but smug grin. “I’m returning to my abode for tonight. I’ll meet you by the fountain at the city entrance an hour after sun-up…” Sun-up was of course a general time frame in this sense, as the sun never actually rose in Treno. “You’re free to make your preparations for the journey until then.” About to turn tail and leave, he hesitated instead, and leant down slightly to tap upon the photos resting over the table.

“This 'Balamb Garden'…” He mused. “Should we come across him during our voyage, do introduce me, won’t you… His paintings are divine, I must admit… I should like to invest in a few portraits.” Yes. It was quite apparent that Kuja had understood very little of this ‘tech-level’ gobbledygook. He could create life with the right amount of mist and magic, but photographs? Preposterous. “Good-evening to you, Miss Aschen. One hour after sun-up. And please, don’t forget my laundry~.” And so, with a subtle bow, he strode on his way to prepare for what could very well be a very, very long trip.

[Aschen Windseer]

Aschen accepted, nodded and pleasantly waved Kuja away. Of course, Kuja didn't need to know that he had infiltrated a military base, seduced it's recruits and made off with some non-essential, if slightly protected information. For the moment, Aschen had many preparations to handle, so he dumped his bounty at the guard house and rushed to the gypsy part of the slums.

And, the next morning, exactly as expected, Aschen was waiting at the fountain, 9am sharp. Next to a Chocobo-driven cart, large enough to transport supplies for a long trip, a portable laboratory and whatever Kuja could bring, yet small enough to enter the town, the alchemist happily waited while distributing his attention between some notes and attempting to teach a few of the slum children that followed him some basic maths. Seeing his client approach, and ignoring any delays the mage could have incurred, Aschen quickly kissed one of the children on the forehead and ordered them home.

"Good morning, sir." Aschen greeted, in a polite tone and royal accent that he knew from experience that best fitted business situations with nobles. "We will be arriving at Windurst, north of here by sundown. I have been told that it is a bustling capital of an empire, with a technological and cultural level equivalent of our own. I have also prepared a proper lunch according to the diet of this region, with local deserts and wine. We will be travelling by chocobo, and under the protection of my Beast Repellent Perfume, so I have also prepared an adequate nasal analgesic for your comfort."

Although the skimpy clothes and person were the same, the curtsey he gave and the general ambiance he emitted were exactly as expected from a servant. Delicately offering Kuja a vial, with the instruction "Two inhalations per nasal cavity, once every quarter day.", and the spotlessly cleaned cloak, now bearing a faint scent of lavender and vanilla, the now particularly civilized alchemist gestured towards the gate, gesturing his cart to follow at a short distance, as he retrieved and offered Kuja a pair of binoculars. "You'll need these shortly after we exit the city."

[Kuja]

The night had been well spent as far as Kuja was concerned. He found it nice to have a familiar roof over his head. Especially a stable one which ran no risk of blowing away with a strong gust of wind, or being trampled by whatever monsters lived close by. After a warm bath and a well-deserved session of preening, sleep was easily tempted to his bedside.

Was this Peace? Well, it was close enough.

Mornings in Treno were much the same as the nights. The Sleepless City indeed never slept, which often made it difficult to rely on the residing nobles to know what the time was. Kuja didn’t own any time pieces (he found watches didn’t go with anything he wore) , so he relied on his own body to estimate when the sun had risen beyond the strange dark township. This morning, his body had decided to guess wrong.

“Drat…” Tutting at the large clock set upon the wall of the auction house, Kuja returned to his room in a rush. He had overslept. Usually he wouldn’t worry in the least about keeping someone waiting for him. People always waited for him… Or they did if they knew what was best for them. This case was an exception of course, he had a feeling that the pretentious brat he was dealing with wouldn’t wait for him any longer than fifteen minutes, and he didn’t much want to flare the city just for the sake of vengeance.

Stomping firmly on the bulging case, he was able to secure the buckle around it and keep it closed. Not being a keen traveller as such, he only kept one article of luggage. Recovery items were forgone in favour of recovery magic, so clothes and accessories were all he needed to carry. The lightweight case clicked along the tiled floor behind him as he wheeled it from his room and down the balcony stairs, a low warning offered to the Auctioneer, who seemed to be busily preparing for today’s gil-reaping. “I’m leaving for a while. If I come back and find you’ve auctioned off any of my belongings I am leaving in your care, I’ll-- …Well, kill you.” The dazzling smile he flashed somehow seemed to cement the threat just as much as it made it seem ridiculously frivolous, in any case, Kuja was able to leave, unquestioned.


Much to the mage’s relief, the gypsy was soon in view, having kept her word and not left without him. Spotting her by her hair, his expression soon dampened… First at the group of unkempt, possibly flea-ridden slum children which darted past his legs, and second from the large cart. Was that their transportation over land? Kuja had no idea what he’d been expecting… But…

He decided not to comment on it.

“Yes, good morning.” He spoke through gritted teeth, part of his efforts not to frown, or turn back and scold those childen for making so much noise. He hated children. From the sounds of things, their next destination was not only one he himself had never heard of, but that Aschen had never travelled to. Technology was still not something he cared for, but perhaps it would be interesting. As he moved to approach the cart, the odd girl dropped a vile in his hands. “Nasal analgesic?” He queried. “What do I need this for?” Though, perhaps he didn’t need to ask. The prickling sent along the curl of his tail and up his spine answered the question for him, and whether this was the reason or not, he shrugged his own question off, and slid the clean robe over his head and shoulders, finally taking the binoculars. “On second thought, forget I asked…”

With no apparent room on the cart, Kuja soon determined where he was expected to sit. And was less than pleased. A chocobo? He had never ridden a chocobo before… Thankfully, his sense of balance was heightened (after standing on silver dragons for half his life), so climbing onto the saddle posed little issue, other than being painfully self-aware of how inelegant he probably looked. The heavily scented robe was posing a small annoyance, but it was keeping him disguised… He supposed he should have been grateful.

((Sorry this is so rushed @ @ I was being pushed out the door as I was writing this. I can go back and fix it later if it's really bad.))

[Aschen Windseer]

"The perfume I will use is needs only to be applied to my cart, but due to it's intense scent, can be discomforting to those unused to the wild. I was concerned that you might not be able to fully enjoy the travel if the scent was bothering you."

Although averting from direct eye contact, Aschen could imagine the look on Kuja's eyes. A noble, supposedly higher in the social 'food chain' than the others, even if likely a murderer or traitor to the empire, angered at every expression of human nature around him. Denying themselves the recognition of the basics of one's self, always holed up in an idealized, perfect world. Despite all the well-intended and thoughtful attempts at making the journey as comfortable as possible, Aschen could sense that the customer would never be pleased. The pains of leadership, command and representation were points that he could understand, being the official 'Matriarch', or rather, 'Queen' of a traditional, well-recognized gypsy clan. But denying oneself to be close to the earth, the people, getting dirty, dancing amongst the others, even if it came with rain, mud and the occasional insect bite, was as close as the gypsy could come to defining a sin.

"That cart is only for our luggage, sir." Aschen replied, 'her' still humbled tone kept in an attempt to straighten up his professional image. Of course, this had the added bonus of helping create a climax before completely ruining his shady client's composure with an unnecessary shock. "I have requested that a chocobo be prepared for you, and it is waiting outside the gate. I will call one for myself when the opportunity arises. I presume you're familiar with proper riding etiquette, my lord?"

As they passed the gates, a stablehand awaited with a properly tamed chocobo, and a wooden step for it's rider. Waving a handful of Gysahl Greens, Aschen was quickly attended by one of his own. Petting it's beak for a few moments while whispering to the bird while it ate out of the 'girls' hand, the gypsy allowed a few moments for his less accustomed partner to make himself comfortable, not offering him even a glance. That was the stablehand's job, after all. And, in a perfectly orderly world, extending a kindly word of encouragement or assistance was unwelcome. Boring. And frustratingly paranoid.

"If I may, I would really like to discuss this predicament that has befallen Gaia with you, for a few moments, sir. What with the merge and all, I've picked up a few cultural items of interest that you might be interesting in examining while we travel. Just to keep you up to date, in case you haven't been out and about yet. There are a few scientific manuals in my cart, if you'd like." Aschen begun, discreetly eying Kuja from the side as he sat on his bare chocobo. "I have been to several cities not of our world, as you can see from the object in your hands. What I lent you earlier is what those of Balamb - where I adquired the maps and images you saw yesterday - call those Binoculars. They work somewhat like a telescope, but are easier to adjust, with the small turn-wheel on top. A wonderfully efficient way to see details in a scenery."

With a small whistle and a gentle pat on the Chocobo's head, he begun to lead the way north. And prepared for what would certainly get him into the most trouble he had ever been in, so far, even including the Terrible Night of the Buckets, which still haunted his hallucinogenic-induced nightmares.

Aschen knew that he would have to turn around and burn the mage's expressions into his memory. Because, in the visible, but safe distance, was another gypsy girl making a large deal of ruckus to be seen with a large flag bearing the colours imprinted on her matriarch's forehead. All while in a disturbingly convincing Kuja disguise.

[OOC: Hell yeah, it's on. I meet your 'rushed post' and raise it with a 'it's 4:30 fukken' AM and I got home an hour ago. Excuse me while I pass out.]

[Kuja]

With trembling hands gripping the chocobo reigns tightly enough to risk callousing later, Kuja observed this ridiculous body-double. He was as disgruntled as predicted, and if the heavily scented air around him wasn’t enough to make his tail stand on end, this performance more than did it.

After the initial mental note that there was no way his hips were quite that shapely, he decided he was annoyed.

“What… What is this?” He managed, making use of the binoculars in his hands (which, he determined, would be useful to keep for theatrical viewing) to get a closer look. He wished he hadn’t.

All hopes of civility remaining between the two for the duration of their journey was then since lost. It was a shame. Kuja did hold some interest in gaining any information he could about ‘The Merge’, as he noted the vast majority were referring to it as.

Thus far, he had ruled out any aftermath of the Terra incident. Gaia’s involvement in this whole mess was still eluding him, although he was beginning to suspect a common event linking everything together. Certainly, the few places he’d come across on his way to Treno held as many similarities to somewhere belonging to Gaia as they did differences. But he knew as well as anyone should that the event couldn’t bode well. He was even mildly concerned for the state of his planet… Whether he liked it or not, it was all he had. It was where he lived, where he almost died and where he survived. It was where he could be anything but what he actually was…

…And if he ever got his hands on whoever was responsible for this, he would destroy them. Nobody flooded his castle and got away with it.

Nobody made an idiot of him and got away with it either.

“Desist!” Standing himself up upon the saddle’s stirrups, he balanced himself with care and gestured to the woman dancing around in the distance. “I cannot travel in disguise when there’s some… Parody of me parading around in front of us! A diversion is one thing, but… But this!?”