10 Frost, 122
The first season of working for the the redheaded man, as Rivin's brain still sometimes thought of the man, had been enlightening in a great variety of ways. Being sent out to gather information or watch a subject and report back on them, or, once in a while, to retrieve in formation in a physical form (letters or other documents) had also felt both rewarding and freeing. Though he could logically understand that some work was likely uncomfortable, people referring to their jobs as 'slavery' or similar no longer made any sense to the Lysanrin.
The magus, though Aurin Kavafis did not think of himself that way at all, it turned out, ran a successful business, two of them, in fact, though only the one belonged to him, and being a part of that, becoming enmeshed in the machinations was enough to take Rivin out of his own head even on the really bad days. There were times he came begging for work, and it seemed as though Aurin understood because on those days there always turned up to be something that needed doing that hadn't been there until he'd come asking.
The first time the man had handed him a pouch filled with money he'd been confused enough to ask where it should be delivered to. But no, it had been his pay. Because he was working a job and when you did that, and weren't a slave, you got paid. He did not want to say he didn't need the money, and so he'd brought it to Sivan and offered it as his rent for the basement space. The elf had been disinclined to accept the payment but when Rivin explained that they could use it for mutual living expenses and had been quite pleasured about it, Sivan hadn't fought him.
It was what one did, when one was a free person. One worked, and then paid rent or living expenses. Doing these things made him feel more real somehow, as if he wasn't simply a combination of mental and physical processes, but a person in a way he hadn't felt like he had been for a long time. Probably since around when his mother had left, or been taken.
Because he wanted to know the big picture of what the business did and was for he kept a detailed series of notes in a cypher of his own making, the key to which existed only in his own head, of all the jobs he did and his speculations on them. Rivin had no intention of revealing Aurin's secrets to anyone, and was becoming, if not fold of the man, specifically loyal to him. It had taken him only a few weeks to make the connection between Sivan's runesmith friend and Aurin's runesmith friend. A few nights spent exploring had discovered the man's home and, another night spent spying had earned him a great deal of both new information as to the nature of those relationships and significant embarrassment. These knowings were not something he would bring up to either the elf he lived with nor the human he worked for unless one of them brought it up first. The suspicion that they both knew the other one knew him was strong, but there was no need to confirm it. Everyone had their own secrets and he did not mind being one even if he did not know the reason. In fact, he found he quite liked the idea of being a secret, particularly for people he was growing to like and trust.
He slipped into the window that led to Aurin's office in the theater easily, he could do it without having to think about it at all now. His comings and goings were known to the man who made use of Semblance in ways that Rivin's study of the subject had never mentioned. The note about his next job had been waiting for him at the current little room he rented, and he'd made his way over at the indicated time. The office was currently empty but waiting was something Rivin was specifically good at. If he was lucky the magus would wrap him in an illusion and send him out into the night to be seen, but not seen. It was possibly the most freeing experience he'd ever encountered, wearing someone else's face, and some of the only time he did not feel as though he was in danger of being recaptured. Other types of jobs were good in their own ways, challenging and interesting, and he would not be overly disappointed if he was not to be someone else, that night.
The first season of working for the the redheaded man, as Rivin's brain still sometimes thought of the man, had been enlightening in a great variety of ways. Being sent out to gather information or watch a subject and report back on them, or, once in a while, to retrieve in formation in a physical form (letters or other documents) had also felt both rewarding and freeing. Though he could logically understand that some work was likely uncomfortable, people referring to their jobs as 'slavery' or similar no longer made any sense to the Lysanrin.
The magus, though Aurin Kavafis did not think of himself that way at all, it turned out, ran a successful business, two of them, in fact, though only the one belonged to him, and being a part of that, becoming enmeshed in the machinations was enough to take Rivin out of his own head even on the really bad days. There were times he came begging for work, and it seemed as though Aurin understood because on those days there always turned up to be something that needed doing that hadn't been there until he'd come asking.
The first time the man had handed him a pouch filled with money he'd been confused enough to ask where it should be delivered to. But no, it had been his pay. Because he was working a job and when you did that, and weren't a slave, you got paid. He did not want to say he didn't need the money, and so he'd brought it to Sivan and offered it as his rent for the basement space. The elf had been disinclined to accept the payment but when Rivin explained that they could use it for mutual living expenses and had been quite pleasured about it, Sivan hadn't fought him.
It was what one did, when one was a free person. One worked, and then paid rent or living expenses. Doing these things made him feel more real somehow, as if he wasn't simply a combination of mental and physical processes, but a person in a way he hadn't felt like he had been for a long time. Probably since around when his mother had left, or been taken.
Because he wanted to know the big picture of what the business did and was for he kept a detailed series of notes in a cypher of his own making, the key to which existed only in his own head, of all the jobs he did and his speculations on them. Rivin had no intention of revealing Aurin's secrets to anyone, and was becoming, if not fold of the man, specifically loyal to him. It had taken him only a few weeks to make the connection between Sivan's runesmith friend and Aurin's runesmith friend. A few nights spent exploring had discovered the man's home and, another night spent spying had earned him a great deal of both new information as to the nature of those relationships and significant embarrassment. These knowings were not something he would bring up to either the elf he lived with nor the human he worked for unless one of them brought it up first. The suspicion that they both knew the other one knew him was strong, but there was no need to confirm it. Everyone had their own secrets and he did not mind being one even if he did not know the reason. In fact, he found he quite liked the idea of being a secret, particularly for people he was growing to like and trust.
He slipped into the window that led to Aurin's office in the theater easily, he could do it without having to think about it at all now. His comings and goings were known to the man who made use of Semblance in ways that Rivin's study of the subject had never mentioned. The note about his next job had been waiting for him at the current little room he rented, and he'd made his way over at the indicated time. The office was currently empty but waiting was something Rivin was specifically good at. If he was lucky the magus would wrap him in an illusion and send him out into the night to be seen, but not seen. It was possibly the most freeing experience he'd ever encountered, wearing someone else's face, and some of the only time he did not feel as though he was in danger of being recaptured. Other types of jobs were good in their own ways, challenging and interesting, and he would not be overly disappointed if he was not to be someone else, that night.
