[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/KFCQcTH.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=0869ec][h1]Ananta Aroa[/h1][/color][/center]

[center][b]//O8 - The Underpass [/b][/center]
[hr]
Ananta was fully aware that what the man some steps ahead of her had done what many would consider the smart thing. What many would call the 'reasonable' thing. Such filthy things they were, slum dwellers. No better than animals in how they lived. Rolling around in their own waste on the daily, taking undeserved scraps from those who'd truly worked and from their betters. Thieves and criminals, the lot of them. At the very least, they knew where they stood in life. At the bottom.

Or, so many would say.

Ananta was a remarkably difficult person to inspire rage in, many found, very much unlike her adventuring peers. Adventurers, in general, were often rather brazen people. Crass, rude, vulgar, and perhaps hundreds of other similar words could be used to fit the description of the average. You could liken them to those mercenary companies of knights, just far more honest with themselves. And while you could generally trust one to fulfill their requests to at least the bare minimum... The less said about their negotiation skills, the better.

Ananta imagined that much of her success, in terms of connections and companions, came from her ability to simply keep a cool head and be polite, just as much as her incredible luck. Much of the time, working out the details of the requests that came directly to her group, instead of just something random off the job board, was left to her, as she was the most suited to it. Perhaps it was something that another might find insulting, but Ananta couldn't find a reason to feel such a way about it. She and the rest of her old party knew very well that it was only her words that had gotten them many valued requests and contracts, and she was valued for it, just as much as she was for her perceived skill.

Many wondered about her origins, be they a close companion or a stranger that'd only heard word of the achievements of Ananta and her party. Her general demeanor, appearance, and manner of speaking inspired some fantastical things, often said in jest when in her presence. Perhaps the most common was some assumed background of a noble lineage. Be it anything from a bastard child of some important house attempting to make her way in the world, a disguised baron's daughter trying to bring her family some manner of fame, or a runaway daughter of some royalty... Jokes and jests, as she said. She'd always taken some small amount of amusement out of these sorts of things. Simply shaking her head with a light smile, gently brushing them off as nothing more than the jests they were. 

There was a sort of twisted amusement she got out of it as well. It was a strange phenomenon, wasn't it? How, when faced with someone like herself, someone of her words and looks, it was subconsciously assumed that she held some kind of noble heritage? Much of her true amusement, after all, came from the past she'd never spoken of. It was far, far easier to get what you wanted when the person you spoke to thought you were like them, or their better, after all. One of her greatest weapons in negotiations was that very assumption. 

It was that same past that she had to clamp down upon. Ananta was not, and never would be, ashamed of where she had come from. The status she had attained? Sure, she struggled to feel something besides a sense of guilt in that, but that feeling would never apply to her true background... But a lack of shame it in did not make it wise to share. There were many a stigma that would follow such a reveal, and that left her far better off leaving her background as a mystery.

But one of the few things that might force her to put her throat in a vice to stall vitriol from spewing out would certainly be attacks on that background. Not her background specifically, - no one knew it, after all, - but on those she would consider her fellows, even if she knew that not a one would see her as one of them anymore. That protective instinct was something she knew she had to clamp down upon in front of many. In front of her party, the clamp was certainly loosened, but never in front of those who would use it to put her at a disadvantage. Even though they may see it as Ananta holding sympathy for those downtrodden instead of what it truly was, it was a disadvantage nonetheless.

And regardless of what she dearly wished to say- regardless of what she dearly wished she could do to the adventurer some steps ahead... Ananta didn't dare do more than narrow her eyes at the man's departing back. An action that would be missed, in this darkness, by most all. 
Was it cowardice, to act this way? To allow things like this to happen, with the titles she held, and the place she'd come from? 

She knew the answer to be nothing other than yes.

Her focus turned, and she locked eyes with the battered child. She didn't dare feel pity, she would not insult the child like that. Not when she understood. Her gaze would not hold an inch of judgement, for it couldn't. Not when Ananta had experienced the very same, just as near all slumborn had. Her eyes, hidden by darkness and by hood, simply waited.

Many would say that doing such a thing was a mistake. Animals such as this would take the smallest scrap to the furthest reaches of the mortal plane, should they be given such an opportunity, they would say. And though Ananta would privately disagree vehemently with the phrasing of such a sentence, she did not fully disagree with the sentiment of the words. To be born in such a place transformed every aspect of life into a fierce competition for survival, and if you wished to see another day, you had to take every inch you could.

Indeed, a detour such as this could turn out to be a mistake. At the very least, it would certainly delay her first delve to the depths of the Abyss somewhat, that was for certain... But she had all the [color=0869ec]time[/color] in the world, before needing to brave the soul of Oratorio.

And thus, her journey was paused, for a moment. Ever so slightly, Ananta moved to the side, allowing any behind her to make headway, and kept a close eye on her belongings and her environment. She couldn't give all of her fellows assistance like this. Not without endangering her own chances of survival. But she would pause for this young one.

The child needed a chance to speak.

Ananta could only hope that what they asked for was something she could provide.

[@ERode]