Of Pies and Collusion

Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Tolleson » Thu Jul 11, 2013 5:39 am

Couldn’t she just hide here, forever? Nestled safely on the kitchen bench, the swelter of summer beading on her brow, clinging to her clothes, the sweet smell of pies drifting through air even now, so late and so early. From scribbled notes and entries in her overstuffed book, Genny’s fingers were stained with ink and her apron with purples, pinks and the deep red of berry casualties. Couldn’t this be everything, be simple as it had been?

It was too late for that now and maybe someone else would step up, bring their sword, their shield, their courage and defeat this creeping and invisible evil. But this was Myrken, the place of constant turmoil, where the strong and influential were now victims and what few heroes it had were dwindling.

So, with a deep breath of mental preparation she set in motion, apron removed, hair tied back, skirts straightened and bag packed. From the oven she pulled a promise, a piping hot, with perfect lattice crust promise, which would be set out for Catch. Her book was closed and all but one of the unsent missives was tucked away. The remainder was a note, and it simply read, “For Catch,” a simple piece of parchment and its accompanying pastry – the last evidence of Genny in this place as she slipped out into the pre-dawn night.

It may well have been sunrise then when she arrived at Mister Calomel’s gates. Earlier than was usual, or even prudent given the unannounced visit, yet here she was, rapping politely and urgently at whatever entrance lent itself to the possibility of being heard.
User avatar
Tolleson
Member
 
Posts: 709
Joined: Mon May 31, 2004 4:00 am
Location: Arizona

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Cinnabar » Thu Jul 11, 2013 8:27 am

The Calomel farm is a pleasant estate set in rolling countryside, a fair ride from the town but still able to see the walls and threads of chimney smoke from certain points. A rutted track leads past a neat little cluster of stone-built cottages towards the manor house - a stout-walled hall for feasts and dances, with a sturdy little tower to house the kitchens and the landlord's family; around it a cluster of outbuildings, stables, barns and cowsheds; at some small remove the old farmhouse, now converted into a lodging-house for visitors who might desire more rustic surroundings than those available closer to town.

There are no guards at the gate, but the farm's workers recognise an outsider when they see one; when it becomes clear that the visiting young lady is looking for Mister Calomel she's directed to the smithy, she'll know it by the noise; indeed, closer to the manor house there's a clanging of metal on metal, guiding her around the corner to the estate's forge, doors wide-open, the interior a shadowed cave of fire-glow and smoke.

A dainty little girl of maybe four or five plays in the doorway - silver-pale hair, fine strands escaping their confining braid, and a soot-smudged dress of hard-wearing cloth. A small stump is set up as a toy anvil, and her little metal-headed hammer sends up a merry din against a strip of scrap iron - at least, until she notes the visitor's presence; solemn green eyes regard the newcomer with a careful gaze, and a heartbeat later she's turned to retreat into the smithy proper, where louder hammerstrikes ring.

Inside, illuminated by the coals, Cinnabar Calomel toils over a strip of iron that takes a hooked curve beneath each sparking blow; he glances up as the little girl - his daughter, clearly, the resemblance is obvious - seeks shelter behind his blacksmith's apron. A moment later and he notes the reason for his daughter's shyness, and his expression flickers through surprise and concern before settling on a polite smile.

"Miss Tolleson, this is unexpected." A moment to set hammer and iron aside, to wipe his hands on a rag and lift the little girl to his hip, speaking to her quietly. "Cinder, this is Miss Tolleson. She's a friend of mine, so say hello." The girl obliges with a mumbled greeting and wave, and the former Governor seems satisfied with that.

"I'm sorry for not being in touch lately; is everything well?"
User avatar
Cinnabar
Member
 
Posts: 1157
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 4:00 am
Location: UK

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Tolleson » Thu Jul 11, 2013 9:01 am

The Calomel farm is lovely, having tripped several times along her hike to the smith’s shed, she even carries some of the rich soil on her skirt. It is refreshing none-the-less. Isolated from the silk and lace, The-Man-In-White, from the prodding questions of Gloria and subtle sneers that were given when an Inquisitor passed; being here let her breath again.

It only made sense that the small girl was frightened of the disastrous sight that was Genny. Weeks if not months had passed since she had been able to sleep for more than an hour or two. Her wrinkled skirts were stained with ink from hastily and clumsily penned letters, her hair though neatly twisted into a bun was an oily and neglected mass pinned with little care for fashion. Still, for the girl and her father alike, there is a sweet and genuine smile, confirming that she was indeed a friend. It had been too long since last they spoke, Catch had been doing so well after all.

“Cinder,” Genny repeated, her smile broader and sheading any hint of worry. “I-It is… is a pleasure to-to meet you.”

For a moment she paused, the worry creeping back at the edges of her face, a quick and nervous glance over her shoulder, back from the way she’d come. “I’m afraid… I… perhaps we might speak alone?” These were matters best kept from younger ears, not just for the sake of imaginations running rampant – but who knew what fragment might be repeated so innocently.
User avatar
Tolleson
Member
 
Posts: 709
Joined: Mon May 31, 2004 4:00 am
Location: Arizona

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Cinnabar » Thu Jul 11, 2013 9:57 am

Before he was landlord or Governor, Calomel was a Constable; the Constable, even, tasked by Governor Helstone with establishing a body to replace extinct Straka and corrupt Janeiro. So it's a keen gaze that inspects his visitor for a moment, calculating for all that the genial smile remains.

"The young miss is charmed, I'm sure, but easily overawed." A small apology and a rueful grin on behalf of the girl's shyness as she half-hides her face in her father's shirtfront, risking a sidelong look at the red-haired lady.

"Papa's got important business, Cinder." Spoken softly to the child. "Could you feed the ducks for a moment?" A small nod in reply, and he reaches to retrieve a half-roll of bread from the bench nearby, presumably something to keep them both fuelled while they work. The girl accepts it with delicate fingers, and after trading kisses upon the cheek he carries her back to the smithy door and sets her down.

The pond, populated by a tribe of noisy waterfowl, lies a short distance away between a couple of outbuildings; he leans against the doorpost to watch his daughter's progress to the water's edge, work-smudged forearms folded across his chest. The girl's quickly surrounded by a gaggle of bossy ducks and half-grown ducklings who dart and dabble for breadcrumbs about her skirts, and her high voice drifts back to them as she scolds the birds for being greedy and pushy. Calomel's attention remains upon the little figure even though his quiet words are for his visitor alone. The yard is otherwise quiet, the farm's workers busy with their chores elsewhere.

"Is it Catch?" That was his first assumption, given the task that had been assigned to them both; given the tension in Genny's features, and the fact that she's here entirely unannounced, he can only fear the worst.
User avatar
Cinnabar
Member
 
Posts: 1157
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 4:00 am
Location: UK

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Tolleson » Thu Jul 11, 2013 10:51 am

And before Inquisitor, Genny was just a pie-maker, alone in a kitchen where all the measurements were known and the process practiced, now unsure how to handle the stress of such events the like of which unfolded now in Myrken. Now? Now she was all nerves and anxiety, a meager smile follows Cinder as she romps down to the pond and scolds the ducks. It is a silent moment, watching the freedom and love contained within such slight actions; waiting until the child is well engaged before speaking.

“No,” there is a small relief in her voice, too small, as her eyes remain on the girl and watch the flurry of feathers as beaks lunge at the dropped morsels.

“I… apologize that I … I should have sent word first, but … the matter is dire and … I…”

Her words betrayed her, there was so much to say and it all wanted to leap out of her at once. Knuckles turning white she gripped the sack she had slung over her shoulder, wringing the strap. When abruptly she stopped, turning with a cool sense of composure to face her company.

“Do you… serve Rh-- our lady?” She had to stop, this first, she was certain he didn’t. He couldn’t, but she had to be sure.
User avatar
Tolleson
Member
 
Posts: 709
Joined: Mon May 31, 2004 4:00 am
Location: Arizona

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Cinnabar » Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:10 am

That it's not Catch is a relief, and there's a small easing of the tightness about his eyes as he watches his daughter tend to her web-footed flock; but if it's not Catch, then what? He's had a letter a few days ago which strove to remind him of a promise made, a duty to fulfil in event of some unspecified calamity. He should have acted upon it, should have gone to Darkenhold right away, but... well.

Over by the pond Cinder - really Callista, the other being an affectionate nickname - squeals with laughter as a particularly forward mallard tries to peck the bread from her hand.

"Don't apologise. If it's urgent then you've no time to be waiting on letters and messengers." His gaze doesn't stray from his daughter's antics by the pond, save for when she asks that question. It earns a small frown of uncertainty, confusion, a flick of grey eyes to the Tolleson girl for a moment but no more.

"I serve only my family, and I've no idea who your lady might be." His tone is clipped, firm, but eases into careful inquiry in the moment after. "We're well out of things here, Miss Tolleson, and deliberately so. What is the matter?"
User avatar
Cinnabar
Member
 
Posts: 1157
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 4:00 am
Location: UK

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Tolleson » Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:41 am

Instant apology, guilt even, but primarily relief pulls her eyes wide and washes over the redhead as his glance flicks to her. A moment’s glance was all she needed, some confirmation he too hadn’t been changed, his mind compromised.

“Good, no, I… “ She truly was apologetic, even if the words wouldn’t come out right or be accepted. With a deep breath she composes herself, or tries, feet shuffling her stance uncomfortable in an unfamiliar role.

“I had to ask, I was… you… Your distance … it is good, and that … that you are friends with Glenn is why I am here.” Not Mister Burnie, as she might usually call her superior. Her fingers loosened slightly, her posture settled and her eyes drifted back to the girl at the pond.

“Glenn is missing, he… has been for near a week,” her voice nearly broke, thick with concern beyond that of a subordinate whose superior had been replaced. It was care, affection perhaps; squeaking as if the words escaped some tight space through which air could scarcely pass. “And… and it is not some… some pleasant holiday to Razasan.” A point that was hardly necessary to make, but made all the same.

“He returned… there was ball.. it… I have never seen such… such… Oppulance?” She may well have never used the word aloud before. “Miss Rhaena’s ball was far grander than… any… larger and more stunning than Descant’s … but when Glenn came they fought and he-he-he… vanished” At least, that was the story she had heard, this part she hadn’t actually witnessed. To be fair, she hadn’t witnessed more than the decadent cakes, decorations and dresses the likes of which Myrken had never seen before.

“With him gone… ‘Mrs. Burnie,’” the title tasted foul and came out with a tinge of disgust despite the long engagment. “She … has taken over… and-and has appointed Giuseppe as an overseer to the I-Inquisitors.“ There was too much to say, too much to explain. But Genny had often been flustered before in trying to speak without the words to say what she meant. “Something… people have… they are not themselves, Miss Rhaena… she has changed them.”

Though Genny faced the pond and looked outward, her tired eyes were vacant, focused far beyond, somewhere within herself where the thoughts projected outward. As if somewhere out there was a large book shelf, invisible to the all the world except her, and on it a volume was hidden, a volume that held the answers.
User avatar
Tolleson
Member
 
Posts: 709
Joined: Mon May 31, 2004 4:00 am
Location: Arizona

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Cinnabar » Sat Jul 13, 2013 4:14 am

Calomel listens as the girl explains, sketches out the sequence of events that have brought her here, to his doorstep. An opulent ball, a dispute, a vanishing and nothing less than a usurpation. He watches his daughter as she feeds the ducks, trying to ensure that not just the greediest get a chance at the breadcrumbs, but his expression is thoughtful, troubled. That Glenn assigned Genevieve Tolleson to work with him on the matter of Catch indicates a certain level of trust placed in her by the Governor. A trust well-invested, if she is ready to raise the alarm over his disappearance.

"Rhaena is a mentalist of considerable skill. She can touch the minds of others, read them - and influence them, though to my knowledge" A small shrug admits that he recognises how incomplete this may be. "that's been a matter of last resort. If for no other reason than because Ariane Emory would end her for it." And that the Marshall has not is an additional concern, but he concentrates on one crisis at a time.

"She and Glenn have had a... a mental link, certainly since the time when I was Governor. We cautioned him against it at the time, but you know how wilful the Governor can be, hm?" A glance for the girl, gauging her reaction to see if she knew of this already. "We'll work on the assumption that he's alive. This being the case, either he has been influenced into dropping out of sight - unlikely, as if Rhaena could manage that then why would she raise suspicion by removing him from the board?" A pause as the once-Governor smiles, and lifting a hand to return his daughter's wave from amid a small army of dabbling ducks.

"So. He is alive, and in possession of his faculties. He's resourceful - he made his own way out of the Underdark, hm?" Alone, a small voice reminds him. "Where would he be kept, Miss Tolleson? Somewhere capable of holding him, and where he would have no contact with anyone who might remain loyal to him. Does anything spring to mind?"
User avatar
Cinnabar
Member
 
Posts: 1157
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 4:00 am
Location: UK

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Tolleson » Sat Jul 13, 2013 7:20 am

It was good that the former governor was so patient, the sketching out of events seemed crude at best, but he had managed to interpret her anxious story. In fact, that he seemed to wade through and summarize the matters and still be able to focus on the problems at hand, had a very calming effect on the redhead. To his troubled expression and all his words she sighed deeply nodding in agreement, in understanding, at all the right times.

“By all…accounts, though please understand I am… I would consider Giuseppe a friend, I do not wish it for him… but he-he-he should be-be dead.” This detail was rather unimportant, not for Giuseppe of course, but in that the only thing it proved to them now was that Rhaena held some additional power. Her considerable skill with influencing others may well have been the primary problem, but she was also incredibly clever, perhaps wielding some other power.

“Ariane has been… acting strangely," and there was a gulp as she considered the more drastic cases. "Where Elliot Brown, Dulcie… their minds seem entirely... compromised.” There is a pained expression that pulls Genny’s face down, and her head shakes back and forth. “Berdini, perhaps all of the councilors… though, Treadwell seems free of it. It-it-it is becoming increasingly d-d-difficult to know who to trust… she might i-i-influence someone at any time.” The point of which was that Rhaena knew the government, the workings of Myrken wood – she had The Constables, The Inquistory, The Council and a thief turned loyal bodyguard.

There is a small change in her posture as she shifts her weight and tucks away a rebellious strand of hair. Turning to look at Calomel when he mentioned the mental link between Rhaena and Glenn, nodding. “Yes, it… I’ve seen their bond… he must have known… perhaps the moment he returned,” she didn’t say she had been told, or learned as much; she had seen it. There is only one further nod and a small pull at the corner of her mouth, a pathetic little grin that recognized how willful Glenn could be.

Assuming he was alive was a good place to start, something she had already done mentally but was happier to hear aloud. It wasn’t likely that Rhaena would kill him, their love for one another was earnest. She knew. But there were a good number of places to hide someone in Myrken, it was littered with smuggler’s holes, caves, pits at the bottom of the lake, magic forests that might keep a man lost for weeks on end. She was silent a moment, a long moment, giving a forced smile to the girl at the pond and offering a meager wave.

“Short of sending him away… to Hexal,” wasn’t that where all the exiles went? Glenn Burnie was too clever, indeed, he has escaped the Underdark – a story he had never offered to share with her, but a fact she knew. “Thessilane,” she almost laughed, a dry sort of scoff at the idea, but he did have some friends there. And considering the current political climate, the idea seemed to hold weight for all of two seconds before she completely dimissed it. “The Gaol?” No, hadn’t Catch basically destroyed it. She shook her head at all of these, retrieveing her hands and cupping them over her face as if the sheltered darkness might help her access that internal library, might help her think.

“There was a trial… a ,” sham. To this Genny did shake her head, with absolute disagreement, it hadn’t been Rhaena’s place to stage. There was all the need in the world to go over the details of the Storyteller if Calomel was unaware, but not the time. There had been rumors after all, but there was more than good reason to suspect, “That pit... Golben?”
User avatar
Tolleson
Member
 
Posts: 709
Joined: Mon May 31, 2004 4:00 am
Location: Arizona

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Cinnabar » Mon Jul 15, 2013 12:10 pm

"Would you consider this Giuseppe friend enough to trust him with what you've brought to me?" Clearly not; clearly not, given the hand that set him at the head of Glenn Burnie's Inquisitory. Compromised was a word he'd used across a table months ago, and again it surfaces. Compromised and thus not to be relied upon.

News of the swordswoman, the Marshall, draws his gaze briefly to Genny's, a piercing glance of silver-flecked grey; something fierce and dangerous, before his attention snaps back to the little girl by the pond.

"The Council have never been much use; not in Helstone's day, certainly not in mine, and likely not in Burnie's. Barely capable of being useless, on the rare days when they're not being actively obstructive. But if Rhaena can get at least one of them to vouch for her actions it lends her an unfortunate credibility. She's no official role, hm?" A question, the researcher having a better knowledge of such things than he. That Treadwell remains independent is surprising, but no reason to hold any great hope that things will be resolved.

"Not Thessilane - she'd need allies to keep him imprisoned, and I can't see her colluding with Burel. Possibly Hexal, but that may be too far afield. The Gaol's too obvious - too many people in and out, too much chance of someone seeing him who shouldn't." Mention of a trial has him frowning, uncertain. "A trial for Glenn?" An assumption, but a confusing one given that she claimed the Governor had vanished. That last, though.

"I know Golben. I've been there, a fair while back. Monument to why we don't have channelers of our own, hm?" But as far as he knew it was just a vast crater. By no means sufficient to hold someone of Glenn's stubbornness. "What of it?"
User avatar
Cinnabar
Member
 
Posts: 1157
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 4:00 am
Location: UK

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Tolleson » Tue Jul 16, 2013 11:49 am

“No, Giuseppe… I might have trusted him once, he has… he-he is different now,” it must have been that Calomel was not been familiar with Glenn’s rather shady associate. The difference in him now was almost as literal as night and day. “Lady Rhaena has him… the Inquisitory … they will never find Glenn,” regardless of whatever their official word might be, it wasn’t in their interest.

His sudden and piercing gaze breaks her from the distant stare, her own eyes like trembling summer leaves caught in sudden storm; anxious, frightened, uncertain but determined. After all, here she stood, bracing for it, seeking it. Wasn’t it just easier to let Myrken become a better place, more peaceful and pure than she had ever known it? It was a beautiful blight to behold, terrifying in its own right – all those people changed or swayed, did Elliot even remember? Would people find happiness in lives not their own, was there satisfaction in silk and pearls, contentment forgetting and instead fulfilling Rhaena’s goals?

“Mrs. Burnie… she-she holds no appointment,” there is a good measure of distain on the matter, a tinge of anger and maybe jealousy at the title people had come to call her. There was no official power there, she’d simply seized it and convinced the entire town it all made sense. And why wouldn’t it, the Angel of Myrken was a saint that ended conflict, brought wealth and happiness, a common goal, a high moral code to an otherwise tumultuous cesspool. It was as if she had built a throne for Myrken and upon it, set herself.

The entire affair was disheartening, maddening. “The trial was not for Glenn! He-he-he was still away… still in Razasan.” She shook her head and let eyes wander once again out to the lake, the frown on her face more impassioned, more feverish than afraid. Perhaps building up an anger that could overcome the fear of being terrifyingly alone in all of this. Even if she wasn’t. After all, she was here now, brought by whatever responsibility she felt for returning Glenn to Myrken, and Myrken to itself. And of course for the fundamental principle that she hadn’t the right to change people, to dress them up as dolls and play tea party, stuffing cucumber sandwiches down their throats until they died little more than a pawn in her play.

“It was for the storyteller, … her power over the fate of people. Glenn would have wanted to know… he would have had questions,” good questions, better than she’d be able to come up with. The right questions. “It was hardly a trial at all! Just a … a farce… a show meant to condemn her and send her away …and she wasn’t sent to the Gaol.” As if a fever had taken her, the anger threatened with tears at the corners of her eyes, impassioned by the retelling and furious as she seemed to be one of the very few who had noticed or cared.

Cheeks red both from the fury and from the embarrassment of her outburst, Genny slowed and took a breath. “Golben…” A sigh. “There are… rumors,” well founded ones, or else Genny wouldn’t have bothered to mention it. “This is where… where she... where they think Lady Rhaena sent her. And it might be… the perfect place for anything… anyone to be made to … disappear.” Her lips are thin, but they plump as she purses them, looking then to the ground as if her theory wasn’t entirely worthy of sharing.
User avatar
Tolleson
Member
 
Posts: 709
Joined: Mon May 31, 2004 4:00 am
Location: Arizona

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Cinnabar » Thu Jul 25, 2013 6:03 am

His visitor speaks, explains, and Calomel listens in silence. There is a cold stillness to him, only his eyes moving as he watches his daughter at play; even his breaths are steady, measured and deliberate, a firmly-imposed control in his every fibre.

Even so, for all that his features are schooled into an intent neutrality, anger radiates from him like the dull glow of a furnace.

When he speaks at last his voice is level, each word carefully honed to be quiet, restrained, precise. The light catches his eyes as he glances to her, a brief flash of bright silver.

"If there is any information you can find about Golben, please do so. Take what precautions you need to remain safe; no unnecessary risks, hm? I'll speak with Ariane." If only to determine what the Inquisitor had meant by acting strangely. The swordswoman's history with Rhaena was strained, to say the least, most readily described as being an intense and mutual mistrust. She would be the first person to act in event of the mentalist overstepping her bounds, and so of course would likely be the first person Rhaena sought to compromise.

Which implied that her bid for power had been carefully calculated before being put into effect.

"I'll do what I can. Understand, Miss Tolleson, that my involvement in this matter is for Glenn's sake. I will make every effort to find him and bring him back, if possible, but I cannot confront Rhaena Olwak myself; you'll have to find other ways." Slow, deep breaths, and the tension about him subsides, covered and hidden once more; he lifts his arm until the little girl by the duckpond notices, and beckons her to him with a wag of his fingers - she takes a moment to pat one of the still-hopeful ducks on the head before trotting back across the yard towards her father.

"You appreciate that there are risks I cannot take."
User avatar
Cinnabar
Member
 
Posts: 1157
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 4:00 am
Location: UK

Re: Of Pies and Collusion

Postby Tolleson » Sun Jul 28, 2013 5:49 am

Where Genny could scarcely keep an emotion to herself, Calomel was far more practiced. And still, the anger that rolled off of him was thick and chilling, a burning cold, glinting like daggers of ice as his eyes catch the light. In her though, there is a quiet fire burning, growing, devouring each new piece of information, reaching and lashing out in every direction, it is explosive and she struggles to contain it. Her words imprecise, her concern, confusion, frustration, and anger as plain upon her as the days were hot. But for the time she listens, takes a lesson from the man with his cool head.

“I-I will,” find more information about Golden, and be careful, perhaps.

There is only a second’s pause before she nods firmly, her eyes remaining on his after the glint had already caught her attention. Despite the reckless fury and the deep red behind her cheeks she forces a smile, “D-d-do not alert her that you think… or that anything is amiss. And.. if I seem not myself… or anyone… I trust you w-w-will know to tread c-c-carefully.”

He waved his daughter near, “this… this is more than I could have hoped. Your… I came for your council… and...”

A beautiful young girl, her mind free to dream, her imagination to soar; she is near them now and Genny’s smile becomes more genuine, sincere, thankful as she looks between the little one and her father.

“You know Myrken… you know Glenn,” and Rhaena, and probably a whole bunch of other things far better than she did.

Kneeling she would take Cinder’s hand if she would allow, one hand below and one atop, a gesture of reassurance, “it was a pleasure… to-to meet you Miss Cinder. H-Have a good day … and b-be careful.” There is a special emphasis given on that word, careful, a final glance spared for the man as she rises. Be careful Cinnabar.
User avatar
Tolleson
Member
 
Posts: 709
Joined: Mon May 31, 2004 4:00 am
Location: Arizona


Return to Myrken Wood



Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 18 guests

cron