The day is young

[D20ragon]

It is spring in the Risen cities.
Brisk zephyrs whisk their way through cloud gardens, bringing the scent of rain and new flowers.
Airship pilots cast off from the docks, ready to take to the skies after a long hard winter.
There is a feeling of optimism, of expectation, excitement.
Carpe diem, the saying goes, and never has it been truer.
Our lives lay before us, full of love, adventure, good friends, and grand times.

There's a good wind at our backs, and the sun shines bright upon us.
Come with me, my friends, for the day is young, and life yet full of wonder.

[Hat-Trick]

Pleasant days mean pleasant pickings for the cutpurse. Compared to winter, where almost no one steps outside unless they have to, spring was a paradise for the Undercity. Briar stood at the entrance to a small, underused alley surveying the countless wanderers and couples enjoying their day, trained eyes sizing up potential marks, the vibrant green irises darting casually from one passerby to the next. Most seemed to be enjoying the grand weather, wearing light layers and moving freely, rather than curling up in heavy coats from the recently passed cold.

Briar sucked idly on their pacifier, the small item granting the androgynous thief some measure of release from boredom, similar to cigars and cigarettes for the more privileged citizens of the flying city passing by. Before too much longer, Briar's eyes locked onto a promising victim and they pushed off the brick wall. They glanced up at a nearby clock and dashed into the crowd like a white rabbit with a pocket watch, weaving in and out of people, their pacifier falling from their lips as they spouted a series of apologies for their rush. A few seconds later, they collided with their mark, nearly sending them both to the pavement, two deft hands quickly claiming a golden bracelet and a sizable purse.

Easily stashing their loot away inside their jacket, Briar hurriedly helps steady the still sprawling young woman, frantically spouting, "Really sorry 'bout that there, Miss. Ought to be watching where 'm going. Right fool of me, but 'm late. Yer not hurt are ya'?" The thieving youth dusted off the woman's clothes politely, talented fingers filching a ring and locket in the process. As their mark confusingly stammered a response, Briar gave chuckle and took the woman's hand and holding it apologetically, "That's good, again, real sorry 'bout that, Miss," They gave a small kiss to the dainty fingers and a sly wink before letting go and freeing one last ring. "Maybe You'll see me again, n' I can make it up to ya'? Gotta dash, though, luv, take care!"

And once again, they were off like a shot. Briar peeled away through the crowd, weaving and apologizing, bumping into a few more people and running through their hurried script again as he saw more good marks. Before long, they were off the streets again and in a back alley, jacket and pockets a few pounds fuller than they'd began.

[Obscurejones]

The Smith is at his forge.

He spends most of his days there. The nights he spends in idler pursuits seeking his latest love, the newest jewel to catch his eye, stargazing with a young astronomer, taking in the symphony with the son of some high born house, drinking in a low and dirty bar with a lyrical beggar who claims to have once been the source of Mozart's requiem. But by day he still works. It brings him a sense of peace, the heavy steady fall of the hammer against anvil. In truth the anvil is an affectation, as unnecessary as the forge itself. The only true source of the Smith's art is the power granted him by the Creator. But the steady dull beat keeps his mind from wandering. He tries to focus on the art at hand.

Which was this again? The young girl, giving up a beautiful voice to fashion for her handsome suitor a locket? The young lad who'd had the Smith shear his curly locks knowing full well they would not return, fashioning a purse of purest silk for his father, a wealthy banker? The poet whose nova muse had left him, desperately trying to win it back with a mantle of pure light, forever stolen from his now blinded eyes?

He does so lose track. But he remembers each completed object. Each beautiful bauble made for love.

[Lostbutseeking]

The spring morning light is pale before the storm flashing before the Lady Tess' shielded eyes. Not a true storm, the terrors of the risen cities but a storm made minature, focused and harnessed as it spits from the tip of the staff she held. In the factory of M Dartan a great engine was slowly taking form, intended to power one of the mightiest airships the world had yet seen. The air was stifling with the fire of the furnances, hazy and red and filled with the clamour of shouts, the roar of fires and the sound of metal striking metal.

Soaked in sweat, deep inside the hollow frame of the great engine Tess uses the staff. An intricate blackwood rod, two feet in length, filled with the arcana of her craft and tipped with a brass bound shining crystal of turqoise tourmaline. Linked back to the acid filled charge pack that she wore on her back. Partly this wonder was an invention of her own devising and part the work of minds far greater. The lightning strikes out, her trusty glasses damping the flash, melting the metal for an instant fusing the blades of the turbine to the mighty shaft.

The work is painstaking, a failure of their work would be terrible but it is so much faster than it used to be, when the blades would need riveting to a ring that would be bound to the shaft. Not only was it so much faster to make them, but they could get so many more blades into the same space. Helping to make Dartan's engines the most efficient and powerful known. A source of great pride to all the workers here.

Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura. How do I love you, let me count the ways.

[Sir Dancealot]

Black-Heart sat at a small table by herself and sipped the tea she had recently purchased. It had a strong, spicy flavor that she was particularly fond of. The tea shop she was currently at was the only shop she could find that carried the damn stuff. Unfortunately, that made it quite expensive. Not that she didn't have to money. Being one of the top mercenaries has it's perks she mused quietly. The main downside to the tea shop was that it was in the middle of the Merchant district, which is where her families mansion was. She could see it from where she was sitting in fact. She took a sip from the warm beverage, thinking about how her families power base had started. Originally, this area was a simple marketplace. But her family had moved in and begun renovating the area, turning it into the bustling and busy place it was now. Truly, her family were nobles in all but name. Sighing, she sipped her drink again, her eyes catching a rather pretty woman strolling along. Interested, if only for the reason one would be interested in a shiny bauble, Black-Heart watched the woman as she went from place to place, looking over wares and window shopping. She bumped into a young... Man? Woman? it was hard to tell, especially from a distance, and they both nearly collapsed. The young one seemed rather apologetic about this, and went through a series of apologies and hurried off. Amused, Black-Heart watched as the young woman tittered about uncertainly for a moment, and then continued on her way.

Something seemed off to Black-Heart though, and she couldn't quite figure out what it was. Until looked at the woman's slender wrist, he golden bracelet missing, along with a few rings. Frowning, she looked for what she now suspected was a thief, but they had already disappeared. Interesting. She would have never realized anything was wrong had she not been watching the young woman for the better part of an hour. She finished off her now cold beverage and asked for another, her eyes now scanning the crowd for a specific pickpocket.

[Galt_Devil]

Stepping off of his current contract into the Risen City, Maximus triple-checked the pouch in his jacket pocket. A strong breeze blew against him, and he removed his goggled helmet to enjoy it, a faint sigh of pleasure escaping him as the wind ruffled his medium-short hair. His pay was in his pocket, his contract was over, and he could probably afford a week sleeping in areal bed before he would have to take to the sky again. Flying was his passion, but leisure came a close second.
Legs stretching under him, he began to work his way to the marketplace of the city, his pay burning a hole in his pocket. He fully intended to find some interesting trinket to spend his money on, and failing that, he would gorge himself come dinner that evening.

[Hat-Trick]

Briar panted slightly, taking a moment to catch their breath as they leaned against the back wall of a bakery out of sight from the main roads and the pedestrians walking passed. It didn't take long for the young thief to unwind themself and examine their haul one piece at a time. Vibrant green eyes scanned the various bits of gold and silver, appraising the precious jewelry and watches, odds and ends, smirking as the estimate grew and grew. Until they pulled out the locket snatched from their first victim of the day, that lovely young woman.

Opening the catch, the spring in the hinge flipped the cover open to reveal an old, faded picture of an old man and what appeared to be the woman as a small girl. Briar's smile faded as they stared at the picture and let out a sigh, examining the rest of the locket critically. It was an old thing, nearing fifteen or twenty years old, well maintained and well worn. Emerald irises fell to the old pacifier hanging on its string before returning to the locket. Grumbling and kicking the wall, Briar set the item aside and continued appraising the rest of the treasures until noise from inside the bakery queued them to move.

They turned a corner and headed for a good hiding spot, stashing most of the valuables for the moment before jogging off towards the police station. The hairs on the back of their neck stood up with every step, it was a bold thing for a thief to do, and Briar quickly slowed their pace to a walk as an officer came into view. They tipped their hat down carefully, hiding their distinctive eyes and stepped closer, timidly tugging on the man's sleeve to get his attention before speaking in a small, delicate voice, "Excuse me, I found this on the street," They held up the silver locket, "I thought whoever lost it might be looking for it..."

The officer glanced between the trinket and the currently somewhat feminine street urchin and smiled, taking it and praising the upstanding youth for returning the item to police custody. Briar smiled brightly, still careful to hide their eyes before running off, waving goodbye to the officer before rounding the corner and dropping the innocent act. They dropped into a full on sprint down the street, expertly dodging the crowd as they returned to pick up the items they had hidden and pocketing them before heading in the direction of a fence to convert it to cash.

Briar's path took them close to the street where they'd started their snatching run just a little while earlier and hesitated before figuring they'd be alright passing by, but crossed the street quickly. As they got closer, a spicy scent hit their nose and they closed their eyes to concentrate. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and they just so happened to have some cash to spend. The young thief deftly removed some of the coins from a purse hidden in their jacket and stuck it in their pocket as they stepped into the nearby tea shop to see if they couldn't purchase a bit of whatever it was.

[Sir Dancealot]

Black-Heart sat, sipping her tea and people watching out of the window. She had ignored anyone trying to strike up a conversation with her, pointedly glancing at the small sign she had made after the third rich money grubber tried to talk to her. It read simply: "Go Away. I'm on vacation." If it wasn't for the view and the delicious tea, (Along with a set of toilets in the back) she would have left an hour ago. She was sure that the shop would be sad to see her go, after all, she was drinking one of their most expensive and aromatic teas. At least six people had come in in the last hour asking about the smell. Over half had bought a cup to try. Black-Heart slowly poured more of the dark, spicy liquid into her near empty cup. They had finally given her a full pot after she had drank three cups and showed no signs of stopping.

Sighing contentedly, she watched as the world walked by. People coming and going about their business, buying and selling wares. It was such a simple life in her mind, not having people trying to kill you most days of the week. She'd forgotten what it had been like really, when all she had to worry about was sneaking off to find some time alone. It was nice, having these moments to relax. Smiling in memory of simple times, she was woken from her reverie as she saw the... person she had been looking for a short time ago. Leaning back, she sipped her cup thoughtfully. She couldn't quite get what intrigued her so much about this person. She'd never seen anyone able to take things like that before. She'd seen thieves, she effectively was one once upon a time. A pickpocket roving in a band of pickpockets. To be fair, she mostly did it so she could buy sweetmeats.

She watched the person, trying to see where they were headed. Oddly enough, it was towards the tea house, and then in it. Shaking her head slightly at her luck, bad or good she didn't quite know, she spoke up as the androgynous sniffed the air. "If you're looking for the smell, it's called Black Spice. I have a pot if you would like to try some. Just get a cup from the counter." Her voice automatically deepened as she spoke from the years of pretending to be a man, it was simply second nature for her now. Nearly everyone looked at her as she spoke, and at the new person of course. Apparently, it wasn't often that Black-Heart Struck up the conversation.

She tapped the small tower of copper coins that were face up in the middle of her table, an old, simple street sign that said "Don't Steal From Here While I'm Here Please."

[Hat-Trick]

Briar blinked, concentration pulled from the delicious spicy scent to the masculine figure by the window. They were rather taken aback by the mercenary's invitation, it wasn't often a complete stranger offered to share their tea, especially one so well off with one so impoverished. Still, the young pickpocket smiled and requested a cup from the woman behind the counter using a friendly male tone before heading towards the small table. As they approached, Briar pulled the only other chair out and sat down gracefully, placing the tea cup down between themself and the pot of Black Spice tea. The androgynous figure shifted gears in an instant, going from daring male street rat to curious young woman as easily as another would change hats.

"So what do I owe this little pleasure to, being invited to share a pot of tea with such a handsome soldier?" Briar said with a playful lilt and rested their chin in one hand and crossed their legs, vibrant green eyes examining the mysterious character across from them with a small smile. The thief had noticed the subtle sign, pleasantly surprised at their new acquaintance's streetwise. Luckily, Briar hadn't intended to snatch anything else until they got to a fence, their pockets were full enough.

[Sir Dancealot]

"Soldier?" She mused, once again sipping her tea in thought. She seemed to be that fairly often today. After a moment, she spoke again, "I suppose the moniker is as apt as any when you're hired to kill people. A soldier of fortune I believe they call people like me." she smiled at the character of a young woman before her. Tell me, how do you see me? A simple mercenary? But what does that mean exactly? To most, I believe that it is simply a person you hire to deal with things you don't want to. But it's more than that I feel. I have no greater purpose behind my work. No city to protect, no lives to save but my own and my friends. And in return for taking the lives of others, for destroying their families? Women and children that will never see their husbands and fathers again, and I took that from them. What am I?" She shook her head, looking out the window again, "I envy them really. Even the urchins. The Thieves. I take money for lives, the same as any assassin, my destruction is just less precise." she looked back at the young woman before her. "Ah, apologies. I offer you a drink, and I dip into melancholy. I'm called Black-Heart, might I have the pleasure of knowing your name my lady?"

[Hat-Trick]

The currently rather feminine blond listened intently as their impromptu companion spoke, finding the subject somber, but politely allowing the warrior across from them to speak. Briar shifted in their seat and supported their head in both hands as they watched the masculine figure carefully. They considered pouring themselves a cup of the tea, but felt it would be rude to serve themself, even after being invited to share. As the soliloquy segued into introduction, the young thief gave a smile, an amused grin, even, as emerald eyes scanned the hardened soul. "So you're the infamous Black-Heart I've heard so much about..."

The androgynous youth leaned forward against the table resting their arms on the cool surface as they considered the mercenary, offering, "I go by Briar, though some simply call me 'Bee'." They fiddled with they pacifier dangling around their neck on a string, angling it to show off the inscribed letter that had inspired their name fourteen years ago. "Very few have called me something as flattering as 'lady' however. Clever Lass and Damned Wench are a bit more common."

[Sir Dancealot]

She shrugged, laughing lightly, "Infamous? I suppose in some circles I am." She smiled, quite a dazzling one at that, as she poured the young lady a cup of tea, "Why, most people say I'm famous. It's usually only thieves and pirates that say such about me. Surely someone as young and adorable as yourself wouldn't be hanging around thieves now would you?" She asked, her smile turning slightly mischievous. "Briar? Interesting name. Why were you named such? A prickly child?"

[Hat-Trick]

Briar grinned a bit wider as the mercenary laughed, pleased they could help cheer the melancholic figure up a bit. The thief watched as Black-Heart poured a cup of the Black Spice, the neat pile of copper pieced replaced miraculously with silver coins as the pot came down to rest on the table again. At the flattering question, Briar giggled slightly, stomach fluttering at the compliment. "Well, I'd be lying if I said that side of society was alien to me," the androgynous youth admitted, rolling one of Black-Heart's copper coins along their knuckles.

"And yes, as far as I've been told, I quickly became a beloved thorn in an old beggar's side when they found me as a baby," Briar continued, deciding to answer both questions with one explanation. "He was able to keep us both fed well enough, infants garner a lot of sympathy, but I eventually grew a bit too big, and obnoxious for that to last. So, I found another way to carry my weight." It wasn't Briar's style to speak so freely, but there was something about the figure across from them that intrigued them just as much as they must have intrigued the warrior. there was something... Off about Black-Heart. Not bad, just... off. The feminine thief giggled again, "Listen to me ramble. Guess it's my turn? I'm not really used to sharing tea with a mysteriously handsome... man like this." They picked up the warm cup of tea and sipped carefully, licking their lips at the spicy taste, it was definitely worth the stop, and the interesting conversation partner was an unexpected bonus so far.

[Sir Dancealot]

She chuckled lightly at the coin replacement trick, it was quite impressive, "Keep them, and take your silver back. Not much use to me really. What am I going to buy with them? Clothes? A hat?" She shook her head with a smile. So, you're an Orphan then? Or were at least abandoned. A Shame that anyone would do such a thing. At least you found some pleasure in your life."

She smiled again at the mention of rambling, her grey eyes glittering with amusement, noting the pause mentally for reference. She'd have to be a bit more careful with this one. "I think all people deserve to ramble at least occasionally. What would the world be without the ramblings of Man? How many stories would be lost?"

[Galt_Devil]

Helmet hanging from his belt, Maximus made his way through the risen city, taking in the sights with a silent appreciation. No matter how many times he saw them, the cities always made his chest swell with pride in humanity, and a feeling of fulfillment. The sky was where he belonged, and it barely even registered in his mind that once upon a time, he may have had to spend any time off an airship with his feet firmly planted on the ground. The thought probably would have terrified him, so it was just as well that it never crossed his mind.

As he passed through the market place, he picked a tea house at random, blowing into the doors with a grin on his face. He planted himself at one of the many tables in the place, feet propped up on his table brazenly, though he appeared utterly unaware that that may look rude. Ordering a small snack, and a sweet, cinammon-flavored tea, he settled in to wait for his order, eyes roaming the place.

[Hat-Trick]

Briar considered the stack of silver pieces as their companion offered them, pleased that their trick had been appreciated. They hummed softly, glancing up from the pile of coins to the mercenary across from them and idly commenting, "I know a clever berk that usually loiters around Beggar's Wharf that'd be willing to make you a charming little hair clip for a few coins." Briar took another drink of the spicy tea, licking their lips again before continuing. "Something like that. I don't know any details, the old man just found me with this," they held up the pacifier again, "And took care of me best he could." They decided not to mention their guardian's death two years ago.

As the doors swung open, Briar glanced at the cause quickly, a bearded man that looked rather pleased with himself. The minor distraction was long enough for the stack of silver pieces to disappear back into the androgynous thief's pockets just as magically as they'd appeared. Briar gave the newcomer a pleasant smile between sips of tea and glanced back at Black-Heart.

[Sir Dancealot]

Black-Heart snorted a laugh, almost scoffing, "A hair clip? I don't think that would be of any particular use to me. In fact, she seemed offended at the notion of having something in her hair, "A hat, not I can see the utility of a hat. It keeps the sun out of your eyes. But a hair clip? I have no hair to clip it on, so it serves no purpose. What exactly are they for anyway? Do they hold your hair back? Why not just wear shorter hair if it gets in your eyes." She shook her head, bemused at the idea of hair clips. "So, the pacifier is something of a keepsake then? I will admit, it is a tad odd to see someone carry about a pacifier so."

She nodded a brief greeting to Maxwell, having flown with the man before, and kicked out a chair slightly. An unspoken invitation to join them if he so desired.

[Lostbutseeking]

Lunch at the factory was generally a hurried and inhouse affair, this fine day though Tess was inclined to catch the fine air and cool off.

And so when the turbine had all the blades attached that it could take until the next section was ready she exited the work section, wiped the worst of the sweat away stowed the great chargepack and much of her assorted toolpack in low density labatory, removed her glasses and headed out into the noon sun with the staff doing duty as a walking stick.

Regents park was lively with people enjoying the fine day, Tess spent a while in the throng of people listening to a soapbox orator demanding political reforms before heading out of the park with the intention to find tea and some food before returning to work.

[Hat-Trick]

Briar suppressed a small smile as Black-Heart ranted about the value of a hat compared to a hair clip, sipping their tea patiently. The androgynous youth examined their conversation partner again, humming softly to themself as the tirade came to a close. "Well, you're certainly right that you haven't the hair for it," Briar mused aloud and reached up to remove their hat, the right half of their bangs reigned in by a handmade hair accessory, obviously an example of the aforementioned craftsman's work. The thief flashed a small smile, the trinket complimenting their feminine mannerisms exceptionally as they continued, "I personally think they're quite charming, and with a clever bit of wit, handy. That may just be my vanity talking, though. Every once in a while, it's nice to do something just because it looks nice, at least for me."

The hat flipped up and landed on Briar's head with a practiced flick, the clip swapping places to rest between the thief's fingers before disappearing altogether. Their hands fell to the pacifier around their neck once more, looking it over idly, "At least by someone capable of walking on their own?" Briar giggled. "It's the only real clue I have about my actual family, so I guess keepsake is as close as any other word." They refrained from mentioning the fact that they still found the item comforting, the childish instinct feeling a bit too embarrassing to admit out loud.

[Sir Dancealot]

Black-Heart shrugs, "It's all bells and whistles to me. The fanciest I've ever been is when I was at a ball. Even then I dressed simpler than all the others. I feel simplicity is best at times. I'm not much one for ornamentation." She smiled lightly, giving a sheepish shrug.

"It's something of a rare clue isn't it? Have you tried using it to find out what happened to your family? After all, how many people go about engraving pacifiers with letters? Actually, there might be a few now that I think of it." She began murmuring softly, thinking through the various options. It was something of a puzzle, and she'd always loved puzzles.

[Lostbutseeking]

Following her sojourn in the park Tess strolls down Regents Street, turning off this main throughfare into one of the many sidestreets lined with bakeries, cafe's and teashops. The butt of her staff clicking against the cobbles with each step she takes, passing the shops, until one rich with the scent of imported spices takes her fancy.

The spice trade was, as it had always been, extemely lucrative. Perhaps even moreso now than before the cataclysm, only small fragments of the spice isles had remained, with few of the exotic plants that provided the spices suriving. She had heard that the Cinamom trees were at least now making a good comeback, a fact that suited her just fine as she was quite partial to the spice, though it's cost meant she could afford it but rarely.

The scent of the this particular teashop was quite captivating however so she decided to make it her stop for lunch this day, it was quite crowded within and a quick perusal of the menu showed that it was quite expensive so she ordered a fairly normal blend and a sugared bun to go with it and settled into a seat at a small corner table to enjoy her refreshments.

[Hat-Trick]

Briar gave a small, dreamy smile as they imagined the hardened mercenary in formal clothes, nibbling a lip subtly at the mental image. Black-Heart might insist on avoiding such things, but that wasn't going to stop the young thief from thinking. Briar examined their pacifier for the umpteenth time in their life, the object was engraved in their mind, so it was more a curious gesture than looking for any sort of clues. "I suppose it's not exactly commonplace, is it?" They admit, tracing the marking. "But it's not like I can go knocking on doors asking if someone's seen a fourteen year old pacifier before. Besides, it's not like I hide the fool thing. It's always around my neck. No one's recognized it yet."

As they spoke, another patron entered the tea shop and Briar turned to look. The androgynous youth sized up the newcomer quickly, taking note of the interesting walking stick and the woman's clothes. Briar glanced back to Black-Heart and mused, "Seems we've started a trend of sorts. Getting crowded in here."

[Sir Dancealot]

Black-Heart chuckled, Indeed we are. But then, this tea is rather aromatic. And delicious. I found a liking for it far from here. From what I understand, it's extremely hard to grow away from where it grows naturally. Out there, it's a weed that they can barely keep in check. Here? It's an extremely expensive and exotic tea. Interesting how that happens isn't it?" She sipped the tea thoughtfully, "Shall we ask anyone to join us? I'm in a giving mood today."