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[rathercommon]

crystal | letter | cease and desist notices slipped under her door | action

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[rathercommon]

[ Definitely don't grieve for that. This is about as much as I can take. The attendants aren't slaves, and it's not like this is a den of abuse and exploitation, so Kitty doesn't exactly feel like a monster taking advantage of all the luxury. But even so, every glint of shining silver, every brush of flower petals on skin reminds her - economic exploitation is what allows for this beauty; aesthetic perfection always comes from hands crushed in factory machinery, farms dynamited to make way for mines, men and women sent abroad to die to claim the territory that holds gems and gold...

Yeah. This level of finery is definitely enough for her. ]

This is fine.

[ She waves her hands through the water, creating little currents and eddies that play over her skin. She doesn't love it, this sudden ache of guilt replacing the pleasure she was feeling over the luxury just a moment before. Then, abruptly: ]

Where'd your money come from? Yours and your family's.

[coquettish_trees]

[ the slight downturn in Kitty's mood is noted and filed; it's not all that surprising to Alexandrie that the young woman is one of the ilk of commoners that seems to be as distressed by luxury as they are appreciative of it. Wondering too much about the state of things rather than accepting that they simply are as they are is a road to ruin. ]

Architecture and design. [ she lifts a pale, shapely leg out of the water to soap it ] In a country that prides itself on the beauty and elegance of its cities it is a highly valued trade, and my Lord Father is a particularly respected talent in a long line of such. Especially under Empress Celene's illustrious reign; she is quite invested in artistry.

[rathercommon]

Artistry?

[ Kitty's gaze flicks over to Alexandrie, her brows coming down. ]

When the world's like this?

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie meets her gaze with a level one, her eyebrows arcing gracefully. ]

Of course. To my mind, there is never a better time to try to find and create beauty in the world. It is a reminder that there are things in life besides strife and uncertainty. Should we wait until everything in life is perfection before making things that feed the spirit? Such a thing will never happen, and we should be left without one of the things that makes life worth living.

[rathercommon]

I don't know if buildings make life worth living.

[ That slips out rather without thought. Which...All right, even if Kitty does think that, which she doesn't really, it's not exactly polite to say that to someone whose family makes their livelihood that way. Rather embarrassed, Kitty mutters - ]

No offense. Sorry.

I used to work in an art shop.

[ Kitty herself isn't fully certain what the point of that statement was - look, I'm allowed to be contemptuous of art, I made my living that way? look, art still existed in the pits of London? look, I'm desperate for something to say? But at least it introduces something beyond let me sneer at something you like. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ lightly, with a graceful shrug: ] I take none. But I do suggest that ones surroundings do a great deal to influence ones spirit.

Look at the Gallows, for instance. [ the name of the island fortress is said with considerable distaste. What a terrible name, honestly. She's already complained. ] It was made to be imposing. Dour. Lifeless and hard. To bear down on the spirits of those who came through it. Imagine instead that it were bright white marble rather than dull grey, the lines curving rather than severe, the entrances lofty and grand, the spaces open and inviting.

Would we not be more proud, to occupy and keep such a space? Proud to welcome diplomats, proud to guard it, proud to keep it clean and bright and beautiful? Or, if for some reason it did not lift ones heart to exist amidst beauty, at the very least it would not make it more weighty.

[ she switches legs, looking back at the limb to clean it properly ]

If it did not matter so, why would we create our Chantries with lofty ceilings? Fill our windows with coloured Seraultine glass? Delight to find a patch of green amidst buildings? A flower in an unexpected place? To see a sky stretching blue from horizon to horizon with a few white clouds like feathers for ornament? No. It matters. And it matters more when there is ugliness in the world.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty looks over at Alexandrie. Her voice is quiet, now, and steady. As discombobulated as she might feel when it comes to associating with people like Lexie, there are certain realms in which Kitty suffers no lack of self-confidence. ]

Those open spaces and lofty ceilings would have been built by slaves, though. I can't see what's beautiful about that.

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie replaces her leg in the water and leans her elbows over the side of the tub towards Kitty's. ]

Whether the origin of art can be separated from the art itself is a different conversation entirely from the subject of whether or not beauty has worth in a world that is not always beautiful. Perhaps the... island... is a poor illustration for you. Consider instead an entire city built by well paid and well treated workers to match its aesthetic on one side, and the same city built the way I described.

[rathercommon]

[ A puff of breath from between her lips. ]

Sorry, I'm having a bit of trouble imagining a city like that.

[coquettish_trees]

[ here Alexandrie flicks the surface of the water with slight irritation and a puff of her own breath. ]

I begin to see why you are utterly unable to relax. Can we not have an exercise of thought on an esoteric topic without you creating details you have lovingly designed to make you glum?

Fine. Consider that you may live in one of two places, entirely untouched by any living hands. One is near the wild hollyhocks of the Ylenn Basin, the gentle rolling hills blanketed with their bright blossoms, the gentle breeze under the wide sky blowing them like water and running fingers through your hair, and one is a grey swamp where it rains interminably and the sun is rarely seen. In which area do you think you might feel more alive? More energetic in your pursuits?

[ here she frowns preemptively at Kitty. ]

And if you choose merely to be contrary, I shall be ever so cross with you.

[rathercommon]

[ Well, as a Londoner, she'd certainly feel more at home in the latter. But...giving that answer would be contrary, and Alexandrie wouldn't get the joke anyway. So, with a little bit of a sigh, she admits - ]

All right, yes, the former. And very nice poetry. [ Kitty also doesn't like poetry. ]

But I'm not just being contrary. It's... [ Another little sigh, then - ] I think we're trained to appreciate beauty and love beauty as a means of social control. I mean, just look at what they do to women. How long are ladies - ladies like you - supposed to spend on your appearance each day? And how much time does that take away from things like...reading, and organizing, and fighting?

[coquettish_trees]

[ oh good, she wins. a tiny bit, at least. ]

Oh, hours. But, as to the first and second, those are eminently possible while having ones hair done and becoming ensconced in ones gown. That is also the time I often use to study the rules and powers of whatever society I shall be moving within and keep myself practiced and improving in the languages I speak. I hardly believe myself to be the exception; one must be sharp to move within such circles successfully.

To the third? [ another light shrug ] There are more ways of fighting than those that roughen your hands and encourage scarring, [ shudder ] and the first two are part of them. As is, if we are being honest, ones appearance. It is not just frippery, it is part and parcel of making oneself an effective weapon.

[rathercommon]

[ A shake of her head. She's leaning forward in the tub, now, arms resting along its side, face animated and passionate, eyes sparkling with energy and, in some way, joy. She's a far cry from the guarded and wary girl who'd walked in. ]

But even then, you're working by their rules, aren't you. Men's rules. The rules of the powerful. If you're only claiming the power that's allotted to women - being pretty, laughing prettily, gossiping - then you're not really doing anything to dismantle the power structures that exist. You're accepting the lot that's given to you. And even a rich girl like you has got to be dissatisfied with your lot. I mean, just listen to that talk - making yourself into a weapon. Why would you ever be the weapon when you could be the warrior?

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie shakes her head slightly, although she answers Kitty's sudden ebullience with a smile of her own. ] Do not mistake me, I am both blade and wielder.

The power allotted to women is a subtle one, but by improving myself, by being pretty, laughing prettily, being clever, clawing my way to the center in the ways that are provided for me, I make it more likely that I find a husband who is himself a fine blade to wield. If I am lucky and clever and pretty enough, I find myself bound to a true partner, and we are a force to be reckoned with. I bear heirs, the family prospers, and we may do such things as make sure our cities are built with well paid and well treated workers. If I am not? [ a small wry half-smile ] Then I bear the price of that failure as a swordsman might bear the price of a poorly executed block in combat.

As far as working within those rules? [ she flicks the surface of the water again. ] It is what it is. Being constantly disaffected with my place in society would bring me more pain, consternation, and sleepless nights than I am given by existing as I do. If it were else, I would perhaps attempt to circumvent them more than I do, which, I suppose, is where revolutions like yours come from. The struggle against a much larger force being less painful than enduring where the force has placed you.

[ and then, a complete digression: ] Have you scrubbed enough? The water is cooling enough that I should like to ring for the next.

[rathercommon]

I - Oh. Erm - give me a second.

[ Kitty had gotten distracted. She grabs for soap and hastily scrubs herself with brisk efficiency as she goes on. ]

You're right, of course. It is much less painful to go along with everyone else. But that's what they count on, isn't it? By ensuring that stability is warm and comforting, they keep things stable. Because when things are unstable, they risk their power. They make it so that the cost of outright disobedience by clever women like you is too high so that to bring them down would be to go against your best interests, too.

[ And then, firmly - ] I'll never get married, myself. I'll never bear children, either. Marriage is a prison and parenthood's a miserable trap.

[coquettish_trees]

[ At the last, Alexandrie's eyes sparkle, and she rests her chin on the heel of her hand. ]

Cherie, you are already married and a mother. [ she waves her hand dismissively ] Perhaps not to a man, and you've not labored to bear a babe of flesh and blood, but you are as faithful and true to your ideals as one might be a husband, and as fiercely protective of and doting on your chosen work as any parent.

[rathercommon]

[ Oh. That brings a faint color into her cheeks. No good reason to blush, but she blushes. ]

I mean...I suppose. I mean, I guess I do detest my cause, sometimes.

[ Anyway. She gives a little nod as she sets the soap aside. ]

Okay, I'm done. We can do new water now.

[coquettish_trees]

[ The blush gets a widened grin, and then Alexandrie rises, water sluicing down her, to get up and walk it unconcernedly all across the floor to give the hanging bell-pull a deft tug before moving to sit on a chair that had been draped in a clean soft linen for this express purpose. ]

What is love without a little blood, no?

[ it won't be too long before a small platoon of very clean and very efficient women are appearing to empty and remove the tubs, replacing them with high-backed oval copper ones that are summarily filled with water that steams a bit more energetically than the previous. The small tables that had held soap and sand are whisked clean and filled instead from the back table's selection of herbs, flowers, and different oils before the two women are again alone.

It's a little dizzying, to be honest, but Alexandrie looks as if everything is in perfectly normal order. She's already dipping a toe in the water and looking satisfied. ]

May I recommend the lavender?

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty had gone red and flustered as soon as the troupe of women had come in - but she's not the first shy guest they've dealt with, and she won't be the last. One of them fetched her a robe to cover up with as they refill the tub; she's wearing that robe now as she awkwardly sticks a fingertip into the water. She looks up as Alexandrie makes her recommendation, then gives a little nod and fetches the lavender. With it goes a large sprig of rosemary and sage; she's been applying these spirit-warding herbs habitually since the early days of the Resistance. ]

Thanks. For the recommendation.

[ She shucks the robe and slips into the water quickly and rather agilely, revealing a minimum of skin. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ She's into the tub, and letting out a happy sigh at the just shy of scorching heat of the water, leaning back against the raised edge to rest her head on the small pillow attached to it before reaching a hand out languidly to retrieve and sniff each little vial of oil in turn until the rose is found and added. ]

Nails shall be done, but there is also the potential for a nice massage seeing as you seem to favor the more physical side of combat.

[rathercommon]

Massage?

[ Kitty's face plainly reveals her dismay. ]

Isn't that - rather a lot of touching?

[coquettish_trees]

[ A pause, and then Alexandrie raises an eyebrow. ]

Inasmuch as having your physician visit to examine you when you are ill is a lot of touching, yes.

[rathercommon]

[ She shakes her head. ]

There's a lot less of it then.

[coquettish_trees]

I mean in that it is entirely professional touching. But you are very welcome to stay in knots if that is your preference.

[ Kitty's so tense, she just assumes there are knots.

Alexandrie pauses briefly, and then gently: ]

You are not accustomed to closeness of any variety, are you.

[ It's not actually a question. ]

[rathercommon]

[ She doesn't want to stay in knots, particularly, but...Well, part of it's her propriety, yes. The thought of letting some stranger touch her freely is horrifying. And part of it's her sheer wariness; how easy would it be, a knife slipped into her back while she's laying face-down all unawares? And - yeah, maybe part of it is her, and the strangeness of a touch. The Joneses were never very...hug-happy.

Of the excuses she can give, she decides that the least personal is probably the safest. So she answers: ]

This won't mean anything to you, but - I'm English. The English aren't renowned for their closeness. [ Certainly not as expressive as the French - and yes, Alexandrie is Orlesian, not French, but it really does seem to be the same thing. ]