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 veryhotthread  Author  Topic: Oryantal Nights  (Read 1739 times)
yumthegreat
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #15 on: Jul 4th, 2016, 2:03pm »

Tariyya sighed in relief. Dancing was not exactly her strong point. She’d never really developed a strong point, most of her life in Unbekz had been spent scrounging for food. She still wasn’t really sure how Meltem had time for such trivialities as dancing. Perhaps it was the benefit of having some living relative, a little free time for a hobby. However, Meltem was quite right about Oryan City itself. While much closer than any of the Cylosian Isles, Oryan’s gates were sealed to all who did not bring vast amounts of gold or food. They would never let a couple of poor orphan girls into their golden city.

Tariyya looked over the street, and tried to imagine what it would look like when war finally came. The Çannisaraes in their golden armor and huge swords, the masses with whatever kitchen utensils and sharp tools they could find, Khalil and Mulak trying to organize a crazed and starving mob. She shivered, and turned back to face the peaceful waves. Her mind instantly recalled the dark sails of the ships going off to war, all those years ago, the ones that had taken her parents and never returned. She closed her eyes, and shook her head. Now was not the time to succumb to those memories, Meltem was here! She looked back over at Meltem, still looking curiously at her.

“Just...just finding a boat bound for Cylos?” Tariyya nodded confidently. Unbekz did get some ships from abroad, though most were local fishermen thanks to N’amidia’s constant blockade. No N’amidian warship would dare stop a Cylosian merchant ship, for the Cylosians valued nothing as much as their trade, as far as Tariyya understood it. Nevertheless few Cylosian vessels arrived at Unbekz. The poor city had little to offer the world, and even less gold. “I’m sure we’ll find one,” said Tariyya confidently. “We…” she paused for another moment. “We could probably sneak onto a Cylosian merchant ship and make it there...it would be a long trip though,” she said, thoughtfully. “I have no idea how far Cylos is... a week? a month? a year?” she sighed, and looked back over the waves. She had no idea where Cylos, or any of its thousands isles, were. Cylos was always discussed with a gesture to the horizon, out some vast area on the seas, a profitable empire as distant as the sun, setting over the waves.
« Last Edit: Jul 4th, 2016, 7:12pm by yumthegreat » User IP Logged

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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #16 on: Jul 25th, 2016, 10:47am »

"Well why not? Despite the blockade there's always ships from Cylos coming in at least once a month!" Meltem seemed to have a spark of inspiration flash in her eyes, and she spun around in her seated position, facing Tariyya with a grin. "Going on one of them is far better than remaining here, wouldn't you agree? At least we would have the opportunity to flee and begin a new life, correct?"

Taking her hand and thumping her chest, Meltem perked herself upright, almost looking as if she had been fervent about this very idea. The Oryantal knew that they would die here if they remained, or they could potentially die attempting to escape. Either way, death was not something to be afraid of. Children starved on the streets and their bodies were left on the sides, to be removed by the Sipac that enforced the Sultan's law. Meltem would not allow herself to meet a dog's end.

"Anyways, who cares how far away Cylos is? If it's a year, then so be it! Even if it's five, then I don't care! I will grow old on the trip than to be here and starve. My only regret would be that I desire Mulak and Khalil to come along, but they are too busy as it is. We will come back with enough wealth to feed ourselves ten times over, I'm sure of it!"
« Last Edit: Jul 25th, 2016, 8:17pm by Cydonia921 » User IP Logged

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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #17 on: Jul 26th, 2016, 7:30pm »

Tariyya nodded slowly, becoming excited again with her friend. Meltem, when she talked about something she was passionate, like dancing, or her siblings, was able to emit an overpowering sensation of joy. To put it simply, once Meltem was happy, she had the power to make anyone she talked to happy, even when, as had happened many times when Meltem talked about what her brothers were up to or some odd dancing move, Tariyya had no idea what the girl was talking about.

The idea of returning back to Unbekz with enough gold to feed herself filled with a kind of vengeful pride. There was a kind of anger that filled Tariyya as imagined herself, with a luxurious house of her own, eating whatever on earth she wanted, watching the Çannisaraes safely from a window, instead of hiding behind whatever trash she was able to find before they marched past her. She smiled at Meltem. “Yeah, let’s do it!” she said, eagerly. She cast a glance down the port, at the rows of ships, most of them the small feluccas of fishermen, and, at the very end of the docks, not far from the Royal Palace of Unbekz, a great gilded barge, for whenever the Emperor was in town and wished to go out on the seas. Needless to say, what with the N’amidian blockade and the fact that the Emperor was very rarely in Unbekz, the huge vessel was rarely used. Tariyya did not see the massive ships of Cylos, identifiable by their sheer size. Feluccas were what the local fishermen used, but these ships were easily dwarfed by the Cylosian Galleons, whose massive hulls packed enough cargo to feed the city’s orphans for a few days, if only the Cylosians were more interested in humanitarian causes than keeping their gold laden purses as heavy as possible. Cylos sold its goods for as high a price as possible. The richest merchants eagerly bought up the wheat and food, and sold it to the people for as high a price as possible. They got richer and richer as the poor died off. Meltem was right, the situation would not last forever. Something would break, and when it did, she did not want to be anywhere near the city, or indeed Oryan itself.

“The next moment I see a Cylosian ship, I’ll run over to your place and get you,” Tariyya promised, finishing the last of her bread. She rose, teetering for a moment, her legs having fallen asleep, but, after a few moments of standing still, she smiled, and wrapped her arms around Meltem’s shoulders in a somewhat awkward hug, before darting off across a road and down an alleyway.


A few hundred yards inland, in a narrow building along an even narrower road, lay Meltem’s residence. It was a small shelter, two rooms. The entrance room functioned also as kitchen and dining room. Most of it was taken up by a low circular table, most of its legs replaced by blocks of wood and stone. Mulak had spotted the large table dumped outside one of the wealthy residences, and wheeled the remains up to their house, where Khalil had set about making it usable once again. It was no longer fit for display at whatever mansion it had once stood in, but it was their most luxurious possession, with floral decorations across the sides of it. Standing to one side of this table, over a small blackened pot, was Khalil. He was currently dressed only partially in his work uniform, if it could indeed be called that, the garb of the merchants of Oryan. He had kept on the wide pants that covered his shoes, but had dispensed with the equally wide sleeved shirt, preferring to be able to use his hands without the risk of ruining the odd silk shirt.

The thin oaken door swung loudly open and slammed behind Mulak as he entered. The boy sat down, setting a somewhat smooshed loaf of bread. “There we go,” he said, sitting down by the table, not yet touching the bread despite appearing ravenous. He looked over to his older brother. “What have you got for today?”

Khalil shifted by the pot. “Lentils, should be good,” Mulak grunted, and did not seem entirely pleased with the prepared entree of the day. He looked over at the door, and sighed. “How was your day?” he asked. “Busy?”

“Not really,” the young man responded. “Nothing new at the docks, so we were just at the market.”
“What were you selling this time?” Mulak asked.
“I’m sure you can guess,” Khalil said, a wry smile on his face. Mulak looked over at him, his own mild frown giving way to a slight smile.
“Well, it’s good you were able to bring enough back for a meal,” Mulak responded, resting his elbows on the table lazily. Khalil nodded, and looked back over at the pot.
“And how was your day, what were you up to?” Mulak sighed.
“Nothing,”
“And this ‘nothing’, I assume, happened with a few of your...friends?” Khalil countered, watching Mulak out of the corner of his eye as he worked on the lentils. Mulak scowled.
“Yeah, it might have,” It was Khalil who now frowned, as he turned his head to face his brother, but the older brother said nothing, his slight glare countered with Mulak’s own severe scowl. Eventually, Khalil turned back to his pot.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #18 on: Aug 15th, 2016, 11:12am »

Meltem wandered through the streets back to her home, having seen Tariyya off to her own home. The Oryantal found herself shivering and trembling, if only because she had been quite torn on whether or not to tell Mulak and Khalil about her plans of running away. She saw the odd guard here and there, who didn’t bat her an eye, unlike any other time she had passed them. Meltem didn’t draw too much attention; although she did petty thefts, sometimes the guards were just exhausted enough from a day of patrols that they did not care if they knew or not. She always thanked her lucky stars when an event like that occurred.

When she had entered the home, the first thing she had noticed had been Khalil slaving over the pot, the open flame licking and crackling at the bottom of the pot. Adjusting her modest jacket, she slipped it off, revealing an undershirt that had been colored a pale green, a color that she could care less about. Sitting down on the humble blankets that circled the table, she always found it strangely relaxing, away from the crime-ridden streets of Unbekz and in her home. She carefully placed the jacket to the side, before looking over at the two of them. Her fingers twitched with anticipation, her breath drawn as she had almost told them about her plans.

Yet, something stopped her. Could it be that she didn’t want them to worry for her, or could it be something else? Either way, she made an audible gulp before she spoke.

“So! Lentils for dinner, and Mulak is home safely! Surely this is a cause for celebration, correct?” Meltem exclaimed, having a wide grin on her face, a facade to shy away from her intentions on leaving.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #19 on: Aug 16th, 2016, 11:13am »

The two brothers both turned in their place to see the newcomer, both of them tensing for a fraction of a second, before recognizing the new arrival as their sister and relaxing once again. In a town such as theirs, their home was liable to all manner of dangerous entries. Rogues, driven to violence from a mixture of desperation and raw hunger might have been drawn in by the smell of food. A batch of Çannisaraes on their routine patrols of Unbekz might decide to break down their door to “investigate” some fictitious rumour about this house. In truth, Unbekz was so rife with corruption and petty crimes that the odds were likely in the Çannisaraes favor if they simply went about breaking into whichever random home they selected. This was true even for the Kushrik household. The magnificent, if broken, table Mulak and Meltem sat around was clearly too splendorous for any family in their unsavory section of the city, though it was in fact the bread on the table that was the proof of the real crime committed. How Çannisaraes’ would react to their particular household was anyone’s guess. If they were lucky, the table would be confiscated. If they weren’t lucky, they would be beaten and hurled into the streets. So far, they’d been very lucky. The Çannisaraes had yet to come calling.

Khalil was glad of company, especially when he’d had only the dour Mulak to talk to only a moment ago. He turned away from the pot of lentils, and raised a hand in affectionate salutation. “Welcome back, Meltem,” he called, before turning back to the lentils, stirring it vigorously. “How was your day?” He turned back to his two siblings, shooting Mulak a harmless glower. “I’m sure you’ve been keeping with better company than Mulak here,”

“And yet,” said Mulak, irritable again, gesturing to the misshapen loaf he’d set on the table. “My poor company appears to yield better results than hers,” Khalil gave him another frown, this one with a little more anger behind it, and Mulak yielded, leaning a little further back against the wall, before turning to look at Meltem again. Despite his prickly nature, Mulak was a perceptive boy, and could tell something was troubling his older sister. “What’s wrong, Meltem?” Mulak asked, raising his eyebrows at her from across the table. Khalil turned to give Meltem an analytic glance. It was unclear whether he could tell whether Meltem was hiding something, or whether he simply did not wish to press her about it.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #20 on: Sep 3rd, 2016, 3:22pm »

“Hm?” Meltem looked up from being lost in thought, contemplating on what she should say. The young Oryantal knew that her brothers meant everything to her, and yet here she was, stuck in a dilemma that she couldn’t quite think of how to talk to them about moving through the Cylosian Empire. Surely no one would even allow her to mention the idea, for it would be too dangerous or something along the lines of that. She merely leaned back and rested her hands on the floor, shutting her eyes and making a small sigh. “Nothing at all, Mulak. I’ve just been thinking of what Tariyya said is all,” she explained, trying to play it off as something that her friend had stated earlier at the docks. Nudging her outfit to make sure that it was perfectly fine and presentable, her eyes looked over at Khalil, who had given her a glance before returning back to the Lentils, stirring it and having the aroma well around the single room.

“Anyways, Khalil! How did today at work go?” she inquired, hoping to at the very least push the pressure off of her shoulders and instead bounce it back to her older brother. Meltem perked back up into a seated position, placing her hands around her ankles as she beamed towards him. He had always worked so hard for the two of them, and yet she never really got the time to thank him for his efforts. Yet, there had also been the thought of what Mulak had done when no one thought he had been looking. Thanks to Tariyya, who had kept an eye on him sometimes for her in exchange for double portions, Meltem had found that he had been hanging out with… undesirables. They were akin to a juvenile gang, one that actually pestered other children that decided to rat out fellow orphans to the Çannisaraes. Although technically it had been a good thing for Unbekz, the way they went about things scared Meltem immensely. Her eyes wandered over towards Mulak, giving him a quick glance before she shut them once more, taking in a deep breath in order to calm her nerves.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #21 on: Sep 3rd, 2016, 8:17pm »

Mulak looked at her, still unconvinced, but, before he could ask another question, Khalil, who was still tending to the pot, launched into a telling of his own day. Whether he was deliberately trying to stave off conflict at their dinner table of was simply oblivious was still beyond Mulak, though his thoughts were increasingly drifting to the former option.

“Well, I’m glad you asked Meltem, it’s been quite an interesting day at work.” Mulak, who’d already heard about Khalil’s day, scoffed quietly. Khalil ignored him. “Well, none of the Company’s ships arrived today, so we were selling some of our older stuff, Aşil and I were at the market all day. We sold almost all of the lentils, down to the last pound,” he paused for a moment to stretch, before turning to face the two of them. “Aşil was so pleased he let me take the leftover stuff!” He turned back to the pot, giving in a small, energetic stir. “We shall feast!” he said, melodramatically.

Mulak scowled, his attention shifting from Meltem to his brother. “So you got some lentils. Literally the bottom of the barrel.” Khalil turned to him sharply.
“And you got the bread, thanks for that,” he said, his tone dangerously cool. Mulak, this time, did not heed the warning.
“Please, I got the bread in like five minutes, it took you all day and all you got was-”
“You stole the bread,” Khalil pointed out.
“Yes!” Mulak said, his own voice raising. “I stole the bread. And we have bread now!” he paused for a moment, and began again, his voice only slightly more composed. “I don’t know why you work so hard! It...you know you won’t…” Khalil turned from him, back to the pot.
“It’s the best way,” he said quietly.
“You know it isn’t!” Mulak shouted. Khalil was quiet. Mulak looked like he wanted to say more, but, at last, his composure overtook him, and he went back to glowering at a crack in the table.

After a few moments of silence, Khalil asked, without turning from the pot “So, how was your day, Meltem?” Mulak looked up, curiously.
“Yeah, what did you say Tariyya said?” Mulak added, partially because he had been curious, and partially because he wanted to be on Khalil’s side again. Khalil chuckled, and gave his brother a knowing smile. Mulak shot him a very embarrassed frown, before turning back to Meltem.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #22 on: Sep 3rd, 2016, 8:59pm »

The display between the two brothers outright made Meltem completely uncomfortable. There had been no way that this family could function any longer if this kept up. With Khalil constantly being financially burdened from his apprenticeship, alongside Mulak's delinquent behavior, her heart had been crushed with the prospect of everything falling apart before her very eyes. The girl's ambitions had only been steeled when she saw the small fight break out between the two for a moment over a piece of bread. How much worse could things get from here on out?

When she had been asked what Tariyya had said, Meltem gave a shrug and said, "Eh, just the usual. Talking about how she really wants to go out and see N'amidia." At this, she paused, finding it strange on why she had said N'amidia, of all places. The very country that drove the Oryantal Empire into a steep decline after the war; it had been nearly instantaneous with how worse the situation got after they had won. "But you know, the blockade is always there, so I told her that it was a silly idea in the first place."

A sigh escaped her. She could still feel her heart slowly being crushed by the lies she said. It hadn't been because of the fact that it had been her brothers, but the constant thought of telling them the truth always welled up within her chest. It had nearly escaped her once or twice already, and yet she kept it buried, burning in her soul for hers to keep. If she had outright stated her intentions to leave, Mulak would most likely see to it that she would not be able to leave. Even then, Khalil would assuredly see to it that Meltem wouldn't leave. They loved her too much, and it ate away at her very being. It hadn't been that she didn't love them back; they were her only family after their parents died from a N'amidian war vessel blasting them to pieces. No, she felt that they held her back from trying to find fame and wealth.

Despite these feelings, Meltem turned to Mulak, trying to relieve the tension in the room. "But that's all she said, little brother. No more, no less! Keep up with this interrogation and I am positive that Tariyya will shake you down!~" she proclaimed, letting off a chuckle before placing her elbows on the table, holding her head up with her hands propped against her cheeks. "And Khalil, that sounds really exciting. I'm just glad that we can eat something other than stale bread and apples for once."
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #23 on: Sep 4th, 2016, 12:45am »

Khalil looked slightly offended at Meltem’s comment. “Well, Aşil gave me a lot of apples last week.” He said, quietly. “I’m sorry if you got tired of them. They were a bit sour, I suppose.” He turned back to the pot, giving it a somewhat lackluster stir. “But,” he said, more cheerily. “These will be better, much better than the apples. Nothing quite like good, hot lentils after a long day!”

Mulak looked at Meltem, a mixture of surprise and scorn etched on his face. “N’amidia?!” he asked, in surprise. “Why on earth would she want to go there?” He looked over at Khalil. “The N’amidians are reason this whole country is in the position it is!” Scorn overcame surprise, and he scowled again. “What even is there to see in N’amidia?” he asked, sounding genuinely annoyed.
“Well,” said Khalil, another wry smile on his face. “For one, she could be completely certain she’d never have to see your glum face again.” Mulak’s face was again momentarily overtaken by complete surprise. For a few moments there was silence, as the two brothers staring at each other. Then Mulak threw his head back and burst out laughing.

It was at times like this, when Mulak’s face wasn’t knit in his customary frown, that one could really appreciate how much he looked like his father. He had the slightest hint of stubble, a far cry from the beard of Arslan Kushrik, but his face was the same shade of dark brown that his father had been, his long, black hair hung loosely to his face as his father’s had. The one factor that distinguished Mulak from simply being a younger version of his father was his eyes. He did not have the dark green eyes Meltem and Khalil had inherited from him, rather, his were the astonishing light blue eyes of his mother.

“What are you looking at?” Mulak asked, noticing Khalil staring at his face, his usual prickliness resurfacing.
“Nothing,” Khalil said, turning back to pick up the pot and bring it over to the table. “Done!” he announced proudly, setting it down with a slight ‘thwump’. Mulak picked up the bread and pulled it apart into three, roughly equivalent thirds. He passed one, the largest chunk, to Khalil, passing the next to Meltem, and keeping the smallest for himself. He gave it a somber glance, before taking a bit of it, sampling the lentils curiously. He looked up at Khalil, surprised.
“This is actually quite good.” Mulak swapped another few lentils. “It’s been a while since we’ve had something this...hot.”
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #24 on: Sep 4th, 2016, 12:49pm »

The laughter from Mulak made Meltem beam in response. Every once in a rare while, the family operated rather swimmingly. Despite the awful conditions that they found themselves in, they had this rare moment where after an argument they would all laugh. No matter what, they were a family. It had been a struggle to make themselves go through each and every day, but they were always there for each other. Meltem smelled the lentils aroma flowing through the room, and it hadn’t been until that precise moment that the girl found her stomach growling. She had been starving! Despite having the loaf of bread earlier, her stomach still yearned for something more filling.

Placing her upper torso on the table, resulting in her going into a small leaning/laying position as she kicked her feet up for a moment. When the piece of bread had been handed to her, she ravenously took it and bit into it, accepting any scrap of food that had been given to her. Lentils had been so succulent, a rare treat that no one really had the chance of obtaining in this terrible age. Whatever food Khalil got from his job, it had been a blessing in disguise. Taking some of the lentils she placed it upon the bread and bit into it, finding herself grinning in response as the taste exploded onto her tongue. It had been a pleasure to eat such a feast, no matter how humble the meal had been.

“This is really good!” Meltem proclaimed, swallowing it down and taking more lentils. “Thanks so much, Khalil!~” she mused, sounding extremely pleased and satiated with the intense flavor that welled up from this.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #25 on: Sep 6th, 2016, 9:00pm »

“It’s nothing, don’t mention it!” Khalil said with a beam, before returning to eating. Mulak made a slight noise of gratitude, which Khalil acknowledged with polite nod. The three of them ate in relative silence, neither Khalil nor Mulak risking conversation, for the two of them were certain they would bicker should either of them try to discuss anything involving their lives.

Khalil was, to himself and to himself alone, far less optimistic than he usually let on. He knew that rising through the ranks of his own profession, working with the local Oryantal merchants. He would never be able to actually manage one of the small storage facilites his group had in Unbekz, let alone manage one of the admittedly few ships the company had. Jobs like that were reserved for the sons of the managers, who had gotten their professions from their fathers who had gotten their jobs from their fathers. Meritocracy was, for the time being, a concept completely foreign to Unbekz. Khalil went to work every day because he, now that both of their parents were dead, somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, for all he knew. They had died during the war with N’amidia. The responsibility for keeping the family safe had fallen entirely on him, neither Mulak nor Meltem old enough to get work. That had been five years ago. Now, the chances of them getting a job was highly unlikely. Life was hard in Unbekz, and only a slight majority of the adults were employed, leaving the thousands of children without a family breadwinner without any way of making money legally. Khalil’s job, as terrible as it was, was the only way the Kushrik family made any money at all. Quitting his job and trying to find better-paying employ would simply be suicidal, for not only him but the entire family.

Mulak had an entirely different understanding of the Kushrik family situation. He believed Khalil to be old fashioned, stuck in his ways, stubborn. They both knew that he could never rise in his current situation. Mulak knew that Khalil could not easily find another job, but Mulak believed that Khalil’s efforts would have been better served if he did what he did, and simply stole whatever food the family needed to survive. With more than just him finding food, they would be able to find much more food than the leftovers from Khalil’s shop they’d had to content themselves with. Additionally, Mulak and Meltem both knew war was coming. The current situation in Oryan, at least, in Unbekz, was untenable. And while Meltem believed the best option was to flee, Mulak and his gang believed that the thing to do was to fight, and a small band of teenagers would need all the help they could get. Of course, they only talked about this on occasion, when talking of grand plans for the future, plans that would almost certainly never come to fruition.

Dinner finished as abruptly as it had started. There had, truth be told, been fairly few lentils, and three starving youths sitting together. Khalil leaned back, yawning widely. “Well, that was great!” he said, cheerfully, turning to Mulak. “Thanks for providing the bread.”
“Don’t mention it,” Mulak mumbled, though he offered him a tepid smile.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #26 on: Oct 31st, 2016, 8:02pm »

Meltem gave them her thanks, and swiftly she began to eat whatever she could. The spoons that they had clashed at times for the lentils, and the pieces of bread eventually became nothing more than crumbs on the table. The three Oryantals were immensely pleased with this rare meal, the likes of which were usually snagged away at the last moment before they had the chance to even look upon it. Usually the Çanissarae would take the food for themselves as they patrolled the city, the result of centuries of their integration into the lives after the discovery of Keveria. Yet here they were, lentils and bread in hand as they feasted like the sultan himself.

After a further few minutes, Meltem scooped up whatever they had for plates and walked over to the small, humble pail of fresh water. This had been their bath, the place where they wash dishes, and unfortunately their emergency reserve of water in case the well was blockaded by other children and families that were desperate for water. She placed the dishes in, a small splash sounding as Meltem gave off a sigh.

Is this what life had to offer for them? The fact that lentils and bread, the most humble of meals, had been the best thing that they can come up with? Meltem felt that there had to be more. Also, she had to escape. There had been no question about that. Even though this had been a truthfully splendid family moment, this wouldn’t last much longer. With the Çanissarae encroaching everyone and attempting to regain order in a lawless city, she knew that it was a matter of time before things would go to hell. Oh, where had Vuur Insigne been during this time? She remembered the tales of how the god, who made man, blessed N’amidia with a Kutsul that struck down the dark beast. Yet Oryan received no such treatment. There were always rumor of an oracle, a dancer much like herself, yet she never appeared anywhere in the country.

Shaking her head, Meltem had to focus her mind on other things. Not silly legends that had no proof. Turning her head, she looked over at Mulak and forced a smile to appear on her face. “Hey Mulak, do you think tomorrow we can head over to the baker’s corner? I’m thinking of doing a performance to help lighten up the spirits and get some money so we can get fresh bread.”
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #27 on: Nov 6th, 2016, 2:57pm »

Khalil also turned to Mulak who, under the gaze of both of his siblings, compromised, choosing instead to glower at the table between the two of them. “What do you need me for to go dancing by the baker’s?” Mulak asked the table, looking annoyed. Khalil scoffed.


“You can’t let your sister just travel around the city doing performances by herself!” Khalil chided. “You should go with her, keep her safe.” Mulak turned on him, his expression mingled anger and sadness.


“You let us roam the city alone all the time!” the younger brother pointed out, and Khalil inclined his head, the closest thing to a nod Mulak would likely get from his elder brother. “In any case, what am I even supposed to protect her from? The Çanissaraes won’t hurt her just because I’M there. And the Baker hates me more than he hates her!”


“Well, you and your,” Khalil paused for a moment, stopping himself to rethink his words, saying a moment later “friends, you do steal from him.” Mulak looked even more upset.


“So that we can survive!” He shouted Khalil leaned forward, abandoning his attempt to reason with or reprimand his brother, and now simply trying to sympathize with him, trying to avoid a confrontation.


“I know, I understand,” he said softly. and Mulak’s anger faded for a moment, and the boy just looked sad and scared. “But you have to see things from his perspective. He’s likely as desperate as we are.”
“No!” Mulak said, stubbornly, his anger returning to him. “No he isn’t! There’s no way!” Khalil sighed, and leaned back in his chair.


“Nevertheless,” he said, quietly. “Will you go with Meltem? The Baker doesn’t like her much either.” He offered his sister a slight smile. “She shouldn’t be alone out there.”


“She’ll be with Tariyya, won’t you, Meltem?” Mulak said, trying to push the conversation away from himself. Khalil gave Mulak a slight smirk, and Mulak continued, slightly flustered. “I only meant that she most likely will be with her friends! Even if she isn’t, it’s a public place, there’ll be a lot of people out and about!” Khalil inclined his head again slightly. Despite their arguments, Khalil did know Mulak would keep something of a close eye on Meltem, in his own way. While he might complain he was protective of his sister, and generally kept a at times sporadic, often indirect eye on her, in the form of his friends. While far from a constant eye, they would certainly know if Meltem was in a dangerous part of the city, and all of them had sworn to protect her, along with the relatives of anyone in their group, though the power of a dozen or so starving children was debateable.
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #28 on: Nov 13th, 2016, 11:31am »

“Well, Tariyya has a lot on her mind right now. I was kind of hoping that she wouldn’t have to worry her little head any more than she already has to,” Meltem stated, yet again finding herself fibbing before her brothers. Why couldn’t she stop herself this time? The young Oryantal knew that she would never lie to them under any other circumstance, and yet here she was, constantly finding her face growing warmer with each lie she spoke. Perhaps she had been afraid of telling them outright that she was planning on leaving, and yet something stopped her from even uttering the words to them. No, she had to keep them in the dark, to keep them thinking that everything would be fine with her. Meltem didn’t want them to fret over her. She had to keep doing this.

Standing up, stretching her arms and letting off a small yawn, Meltem gave Mulak a small, teasing smile. “Beside Mulak, wouldn’t you want to see your beloved sister put on a splendid performance? I hate to think that I would be alone for no one to see my hard work!” Of course, she made a chuckle, knowing that she knew that her youngest brother had conflicting thoughts about accompanying her for one of her performances. Yet again, it did make for a good source of income in these dark times.

Then, a thought struck her, the kind of thought that made her let off an audible, “Oh!” Her bare feet treaded on the stone floor, looking at the window before she drew the curtains, or simply a blanket that they used to keep prying eyes from looking into their home. “Also Khalil, I have a favor to ask of you too. Tariyya is expecting something in the harbor one of these days. She saved up a lot of money for this thing and she wanted to make sure that it arrived. I was wondering if you would let us know when a Cylosian ship arrives to do business with you and Asil.”
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xx Re: Oryantal Nights
« Reply #29 on: Dec 25th, 2016, 1:07pm »

Mulak scowled at Meltem at her gentle teasing, but nodded nonetheless. “I’ll be there.” He mumbled, his face not betraying the slightest emotion other than sheer annoyance at his familial obligation, though he was in all likelihood not entirely displeased at the prospect of being given some kind of responsibility. Khalil said nothing, but, still seated across from Mulak, the oldest Kushrik brother smiled and nodded at him. Mulak’s lip curled and he nodded back begrudgingly, a recognition of that one matter on which they agreed entirely upon: that Meltem’s protection was of paramount importance. The two might have spent much of their time at each other’s throats, but there was still the fact that the three of them had, for many years now, none to rely on safe each other, and that they had to maintain that one mutual relation they had, Meltem herself.

Khalil turned, curiously, to Meltem, one eyebrow raised. “Tariyya’s expecting something from the harbor? What on earth does she think is on it’s way?” He leaned backwards, resting his head against the worn once white walls, thoughtful. “Cylosian ships, Cylosian ships...I don’t think we’ve had one in port for some time, so, we might be due for one. Asil’s been trying to rely on his own fleet more and more, but he still hasn’t really recovered from the war, you know. He’s been selling off stuff from some Cylosian ships, we had one maybe about six months ago. He’s a...strange guy, but Asil seems to trust him.” Khalil looked back at Meltem and Mulak seeming uncertain as to how he’d started talking about Cylosian ship captains. It took him a moment to remember. “Oh, yeah, sure, I can tell you if we get any,” he added, meekly.

Seeking to fill the awkward silence that bloomed after his last comment, Khalil rose hastily, moving to the bucket Meltem had set up, leaving Mulak to give his sister another curious glance. Returning to the question Khalil had asked, only to immediately forget, Mulak asked “What is it that Tariyya’s expecting from a Cylosian ship, Meltem?”
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