A New Game is Afoot!

A New Game is Afoot!

Postby highawaywoman » Sun Jan 03, 2016 12:47 pm

There were times that the one-eye, Blort, had proved to be invaluable. After all, the highwaywoman was a wealthy person, thanks to him. He'd also introduced her to Elias, the man at her side, who radiated with excitement as they weaved through the back-alleys of Myrkentown to a darkened corner of Merchant's Square. There was no hand-holding or talking between the couple as they moved silently through the streets. Not that Ailova was ever one for active public displays of affection. She had no reason to stake her claim on Elias publicly. The fact he was hers, shared a flat with her, shared the same bed? That was enough of a statement of emotional commitment.

"Ye everra notice 'ow there are soo many bleedin' birds aboou' lately? Scores o' 'em. All starin' with their beady coold eyes." The brigand missed her hat; a chilly draft blew through between the aging buildings, ruffling tousled straw-colored hair as they neared their meeting place.

Three crows perched on a windowsill, watching the pair as they moved quietly by. Ailova could have been mistaken as a male, dressed in her typical mannish garb. Leather riding breeches, tall black boots, and a thick woolen greatcoat covered her slight frame, giving hint to a bulk that didn't exist beneath the garment. The shock of blonde hair was the only clue to a possibility of femininity.

Moments later, they rounded another corner and were at the very place that Blort assured her the woman would want to meet. It was quiet as the grave at night. The shops were shuttered and the keepers who lived above-stairs had banked their fires down to a soft smolder for the remainder of the chilly evening. Ailova had bartered for a sword, but the cutlass at her hip was no replacement for the rapier she'd lost in that bleedin' awful dream.

"Well. Foine place for a rendezvous. Think she be pretty? Mayhap, ye can flir' with 'er and gain us even moore blunt fer the joob."
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby Rance » Mon Jan 04, 2016 10:28 am

"Hells, I didn't think you'd want me here just to employ my masculine wiles. I do bring other talents to the table, not the least of which is managing to piss without dribbling on my pantleg."

Conversing with Ailova Smith was easy. It didn't necessitate any pretense. Here, even as we wended our way through the arteries of Myrkentown, her company was a warmth against the sharp knives of wind breaking against the walls of tenements packed away into the forgotten recesses of the town. Shadows of people only occasionally passed us, caked in mud and sweat, stained by toil. They might as well have all been crumbling blots of ash, cold and restless and dead of eye.

I could have been that. We could have been that. But life had chosen other courses for me and the brigand, and they'd just happened to intersect.

She mentioned the birds. I lifted my chin from the collar of my pilfered longcoat, a boatswain's article with smart copper buttons and blue tape about the sleeves. Crows, then. Greedy, noisy, grackly shits, all of them; scavengers with wings, watching us like we were marching into a court. Ailova had her cutlass against her hip, but me? I'd only the blackjack hanging from a cord inside my sleeve, knocking impatiently against my knuckles.

I rubbed a coin between my fingers, trying to keep my muscles from going brittle with chill.

"Birds can watch all they want. They're good eating," I muttered to her, giving her a gentle nudge in the elbow with mine. "Spit crow might be even a delicacy. I reckon we could try."

When we got to the spot of the intended meeting, I turned, tossed my eyes up to the tops of the buildings, and sucked in air between my teeth.

"Blort sure as shit knows how to pick'em. You sure she'll care for you bringing on a second?"
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby CherryStatic » Tue Jan 05, 2016 7:10 am

Although they made relatively little noise, the crows made no real effort to hide themselves in the growing darkness that fell over the town. They were very much there, everywhere, feathers ruffling as their small heads turned, eyes trained on the couple that made their way calmly but discreetly through the streets before turning into the oddly shaped alleyway, a passage that was decidedly L-shaped. One would be unable to see both ends of the alley unless they stood at the heart of it, and this was where Ailova had been instructed to wait.

The alley was wide but cluttered, filled with tarp-covered crates that created a somewhat labyrinthine illusion, throwing shadows the color of pitch along the walls that enclosed the highaway woman and her companion. Bits and pieces of refuse littered the ground, discarded items that had been tossed away and forgotten in that hidden corner of Myrken.

Fitting, isn't it?, thought the woman who seemed to bleed out of the shadows all at once, giving herself away with a sultry chuckle. She sat atop a stack of crates, nearly eight feet in the air, back straight as though she were having tea in a parlor. She cocked her head as they approached, exposing a choker of black lace and feathers that encased her throat. In fact, her inky outfit was accented with feathers in countless places. They jutted from the cuffs of her sleeves. They formed the brocade that framed the swell of her snowy bosom, her breasts pushed up so far and so audaciously by the corset beneath her dress that a seasoned whore would blush upon seeing them. They hung from her ears on delicate silver chains, resting against her sharp, exposed collarbone. They ran along the hem of her skirts, pinned by a lacy bustle that flared at her hips, further lending to the hourglass figure the whole ensemble created. They decorated the edges of the parasol that rested open on her shoulder.

Golden irises glittered beneath heavily mascaraed lashes, seeming to stare out at the two of them from the depths of a tunnel, amused, curious and predatory all at once. Her burgundy colored lips quirked upon hearing Ailova's suggestion that Elias attempt to seduce their way into greater rewards.

"Flattery is an admirable and effective business tactic among the more refined members of society, little magpie." she said, her voice making its way down to them with all the texture of a silk scarf, the rich bitterness of fresh coffee, the fullness of a low note on a piano. "But after hearing such a glowing recommendation from your friend, I would hope that you wouldn't feel the need to resort to something so cheap in a back alley."

And in an instant, she was gone. She vanished from atop her perch, melting into the surrounding alleyway and, inexplicably, appearing from behind a crate near Elias. She walked parallel to the pair, closing the parasol as she went, studying Ailova's male counterpart with her unnerving eyes before stopping in front of them, close enough that they could easily touch her with their elbows bent. If they were in any way uncomfortable with the abrupt invasion of their personal space, she gave no indication of noticing or, frankly, caring.

"A very astute guess, young man. Crow is considered to be one of the most prized dishes of the ancient world. Beyond its delicate flavor and lavish texture, reminiscent of quail, many claim that it serves as an aphrodisiac." She paused as if considering something, lofting an eyebrow at him. "For men, at least. Or so I've been told. But I'm afraid I don't partake." Whether she was referring to crow or men was unclear.

Her gaze slipped from Elias to the highaway woman, and she planted the parasol's silver tip on the ground, laying her hands across the handle as if it were the pommel of a great sword. "So then. Your one-eyed friend assures me that yours are the stickiest fingers in Myrken. What do you say to that, little magpie?"
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby highawaywoman » Tue Jan 05, 2016 1:46 pm

Several thoughts ran through Ailova's head as that sultry voice greeted them from above. Mainly of which was that the woman's decolletage left little to the imagination - and wasn't she feckin' cold with her charms bared like that?

Months ago, she may have been self-conscious regarding her own appearance, going so far as to compare her less ample figure to that of the swaggering sorceress. Thankfully, time had smoothed a balm to those abrasive feelings. That and the man beside her. Pale-green eyes shifted to him, an eyebrow shooting upwards as the woman disappeared and then reappeared before them - uncomfortably close. Noice feckin' introduction.

"So then. Your one-eyed friend assures me that yours are the stickiest fingers in Myrken. What do you say to that, little magpie?"

Little magpie? Golden teeth gritted at the nickname. She'd been given several in her time on the road. This one was mildly irritating, but certainly not as offensive as some. If she'd been a decade younger and hotter under the collar, mayhap, she would've acted brashly and called the woman an overdressed hoor. However, time had tempered Ailova's brusqueness. Deep breath. Breathe. Smile. Work.

"I've been ken 'o 'ave a talen' fer 'elping soome 'o loighten their freight." Jaded eyes raked the woman from head to slippered toes, wondering how exactly she kept that ensemble altogether. "The oone-eye says you coould be needin' soome 'elp in aquirin' freigh'. This here be me partn'r. I dinnae loike 'o pull joobs aloone; I'm sure ye und'rstan' tha'." A pointed look was given to the crows that perched in various places, watching the below gathered with interest.
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby Rance » Wed Jan 06, 2016 5:37 am

Flare. Always with the flare.

She appeared like an avian shadow, all feathers and carved hips and breasts. And you know, going into it, I didn't expect any less; perhaps I would have hoped there'd be a subtlety, a cloak-and-dagger simplicity to the whole deal, but put something in the hands of a practitioner and it became all histrionics and illusions and displays of power. Disappearing. Reappearing. Enough to set my hackles up and summon the gooseflesh on my arms. The minute my gaze pinned itself on the woman after her clever reappearance, I didn't look away; I didn't intend to let her out of my sight.

And the condescension!

Thankfully, Ailova was a lot more professional than I could be.

This here be me partn'r.

Little magpie my ass. Ailova was a bird, sure, but she'd willingly let herself be my bird; one whose station, strength, and confidence I respected enough not to act as though she was. If we'd marched through town arm-in-arm, passers-by would see her for an object, a frail possession that belonged on the elbow to which she was hinged, whether by choice or by arrangement. I respected Ailova Smith — the woman, the brigand, the person — far too greatly to subject her to diminish her like that. But that didn't mean I approved of anyone else trying to act like they were better, greater than her.

"Hells," I muttered. Then, I greeted the feathery sorceress. "Shove your theatrics. You squat when you shit like the rest of us. She's got an actual name. I've got one, too. And so do you, Feathers."

Maybe Ailova saw it when I glanced at her. My tension. Immediate distrust that I knew I couldn't hide or curtail. Hot cones of warm air blew out of my nostrils. I rubbed my fingers almost raw on the coin pressed between the tips of my fingers. The woman's compliments, her young man, her talk of flavors, textures, aphrodisiacs -- what was I supposed to do? Let my jaw drag, oggle her skin, get tight in the trousers?

Sharply, I said:

"Get rid of the birds. Send them on their way. The only eyes we need here are the six between us."
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby CherryStatic » Wed Jan 06, 2016 9:10 am

Well, the highawaywoman had passed her little test, at least. She offered Ailova a smile, a secret between the two of them, a show of approval. Perhaps its meaning was lost without verbal praise, but the witch so rarely gave handouts when it came to affection, and the real test was still ahead of them. All of them.

Her gleaming eyes returned to where Elias stood at his companion's side, declaring the witch's humanity with the certainty of a judge declaring a criminal's fate. She was more than accustomed to such confidence falling from the lips of the men and women she encountered, whether it was genuine or forced. She had realized long ago that if there was one thing mankind clung to more fiercely than its ideals and its flimsy notion that morality defined existence, it was the conviction with which it regarded its own perception of the world around it, as if the world was limited to what they saw, what they believed. It had rendered the human race into the soft, broken things that crawled from settlement to settlement, wielding fire against the encroaching night and stabbing one another in the back at the first opportunity, all for the promise of money, food, pleasures of the flesh, and comfort.

And whether he realized it or not, the highawaywoman's bedfellow needed that comfort right now. He needed very much to believe that, were her spells to be pocketed and her garments to be cast aside, she would be just the same as them. That if he chose to lash out with his club, that she would crumple beneath the blow and bleed like they would. That if he decided her fate, he could make it a reality by his own hands.

"Feathers." she mused, her gaze dragging down his body in an agonizingly slow crawl before returning to his face, velvet sliding along jagged rock. Her lips twitched, one corner pulling up into a smirk. "I rather like that, I think. And I will call you 'Headsman', little falcon, for the sake of fairness. I think it suits you."

If she were younger, as naïve as she had once been, a veritable queen of the world in her own clouded view of life, she would have angered at his tone, perhaps lashed out with her powers on a whim, if for no other reason than to see him bleed for his disrespect. But, of course, that was how man thought, and these days, she would have nothing to do with the barbarism that kept the human race from achieving its potential. After all, one did not kill a dog for killing a cat. Nature was what it was.

And I am at the top of this particular food chain, little falcon.

Her eyes twinkled at him, full of quiet mirth tainted with the coy familiarity she exuded. She lifted a delicate hand and made a shooing motion with it. Instantly, every bird within a hundred feet took to wing with a thunderous flapping that echoed through the alley. The small bodies lifted like a veil, spiraling overhead as they surged away into the night, a cloud of ink in the sky. A single crow detached from the mass above to alight on her shoulder, its claws lax on her flesh, and she turned her head to regard it, one finger scratching it under its chin. She glanced at the two before her once more.

"While flattery is only an acceptable tactic in certain circles, the little magpie is correct: having a business partner at your side is always wise." Another small grin of approval was directed at Ailova. "I think that eight eyes would round things out. Fair is fair, little falcon, wouldn't you agree? After all, we are all less than the sum of the whole, and I would be most uncomfortable meeting two complete strangers in a back alley in the dead of the night without a companion. You understand, of course." It wasn't a question.

"On to business, then. I do indeed wish to acquire 'freight', as you put it, little magpie. I am not particularly concerned with how you manage to acquire it, but I am operating on a deadline, so I expect results. I would rather this not become a spectacle for the masses, so refrain from arson and murder in the streets, if you would be so kind."
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby highawaywoman » Wed Jan 06, 2016 11:09 am

Self-preservation was a rule in her highwayman code of ethics. Everything that one did was to preserve the lives of yourself and those you cared for - or worked with. Honestly, not taking jobs from magic wielding hoors could also be considered a good notion to continue self-preservation.

But the money! A little bit more and she'd have enough to buy the little farm that laid south of the city. A large enough place to raise and train horses for sale - to grow her own food - to live independently. Enough for him. Enough for Gloria. Though, if she looked past her rosy dreams, she might see that a horse farm was unlikely to fill the void in her life that'd be left when she finally committed to stop banditry.

It was a matter of necessity to be forcibly polite to this outlandish sorceress. Of survival and of flourishing. That didn't mean that Ailova didn't abhor the way the woman looked to Elias. It was a look of predatory superiority. The female was close enough that a whiff of sandal wood and lavender teased her senses, making her nose wrinkle at the soft perfume.

He shifted next to her, partners locking eyes before turning their full attentions on the woman before them. Last joob. The tension that Elias exuded was palpable. The brigand knew that if she touched his arm, it would be iron beneath his sleeve. It wasn't simply the monikers that were distasteful - the ones that this witch tossed out like favors from a hoor on a sailor's payday. It was the smug persona of the woman. She knew she was powerful and she was only too happy to show it to those she considered lesser beings. Elias was as bluntly honest as the work day was long on the docks. He had his drive and she was fortunate he was by her side.

"Ye need i' doone quick and clean." Ailova grinned back to the sorceress, her smile glinting of gold even in the dark. "Jus' soo 'appens 'o be me speciality, as I'm sure Blor' toold ye." The witch in hoor's garb prattled on about murder and mayhem, to which the golden head shook ruefully, "I dinnae murd'r, noor do I care 'o set foires if'n at all poossible."

"Ye wanna 'ell us a bi' moore about the goods? We ain't roobbin' soome demon froom the very lowest ring o' the noine 'ells, I trus'?" It was a vague attempt at humor, one of Ailova's strongest weapons against the grim nature of life and her occupation.
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby Rance » Wed Jan 06, 2016 12:51 pm

"Murdering's an unclean solution, and fires draw too much attention," I said, supporting Ailova's assessment, tightening my teeth enough so that my words came out as hissing breaths between the gaps. Little falcon. I didn't often meet people I'd rather pummel into a wet paste than converse with, but this pouf in lady-garb was quickly testing the limits of my self-control. All her fancy names, her witty titles, her perfume stink of trying-too-hard and the dainty parasol whose stalk I couldn't help but measure with my eyes, wondering how far it might reach crammed up her a—

The crows took flight and dispersed. Her second, her extra pair of eyes, perched on her shoulder. I trusted Ailova to know how far to extend her work, believed in her not to tangle with beings and creatures infinitely greater in power and talent. And though every pore on my skin burned with a subtle sting of instinct — We shouldn't fuck with this; we should know better! — if she didn't hesitate or back away from the offer, neither would I.

Ailova teetered a dream on these sovereigns, a chance to satisfy a quaint and altogether mundane reality for which she'd surrender her banditry and lawlessness. For a farm. For a victorious life. For her, I'd risk it.

And me? What was I in this for?

A chance to relive a few minutes in a world — a profession — I'd sought like the Nine Hells to escape.

My blood was up. I heard it clucking and lapping in my ears, felt my heart swelling and deflating, a crude and organic bellows pattering behind my ribs.

"What's so special about this freight," I asked Feathers, after a time, "that you're willing to pay a fool's fortune for its retrieval? What dangers, that you're not willing to dirty your own boots for it?"

I snapped my eyes to Ailova. She was resolute; I confirmed to her, with a faint nod, that I was too.
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby CherryStatic » Wed Jan 06, 2016 8:33 pm

"I am delighted that we are all on the same page." the witch said, fingers dancing on the handle of the handle of the upturned parasol. "The less attention you draw to yourselves from the general public and the guard, the better. However, should the owner of the item in question discover your theft, I would like it to be abundantly clear that I played no part in its disappearance. In other words, go out of your way to make it obvious that the perpetrators are, in fact, your everyday, run-of-the-mill human beings. That shouldn't prove too difficult, I imagine."

Reaching boldly into the front of her dress, she withdrew a folded slip of paper from her cleavage and extended it towards Ailova between two fingers. "Here is the location. The item that I wish for you both to acquire is a tome. This book is far from ordinary, however, and more than deserving of the amount that I am offering for its...retrieval. I have provided a sketch of the tome's cover, because while it is rather unique, the owner possesses a multitude of similar books. It should go without saying that bringing me the wrong one will end our business immediately."

"That said..." She again reached into her outfit, beneath the bustle this time, and retrieved a pouch. It clinked as she waggled it at them with a smirk before tossing it gently to Elias. "I am willing to pay you both thirty percent of the agreed upon amount upfront, and the rest when the tome is safely in my hands. If I am particularly pleased with your handiwork, I will throw in a little extra on top, just to ice the cake. Call it incentive." The last bit was directed at the man, pointedly. Questions could be an annoyance as often as they were a pleasure.

Appraising both of them for a moment, she cocked her head, jaw-length hair shifting almost imperceptibly. Ailova's joke was half-hearted, and while the witch smiled, it had little to do with the higawaywoman. "The owner of the tome is a witch, of sorts. Eccentric, at best, a joke, at the worst. I sincerely doubt they will pose a problem for such talented thieves as yourselves." Another smirk, not necessarily cruel, but certainly at their expense. "Had I more time, I would go after the book myself, but I am rather busy of late. Scheduling this meeting alone was difficult."

She smiled, the slightest bit more genuine than usual. But not by much. "Do you have any further questions, little magpie? Little falcon?"
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby highawaywoman » Thu Jan 07, 2016 6:43 am

Who the bleedin' feck carries a parasol at night?

A sorceress bent on thievery, that's who.

Very carefully the highwaywoman inhaled deeply, letting the breath out in a slow measure of steam that lifted into the black night. Her own thoughts mirrored the ones of her partner. This was something they should run from. However, this last load, combined with her savings, would be enough to finalize the sale of that farm and enough to purchase the livestock and horses to populate it. Part of her very much wished to grab Elias' hand and to squeeze it, as if to reassure herself that this was going to work in the favor. No such action came from her, it would show weakness in front of that power hungry she-bitch.

"Ye do make a feckin' loo' o' demands, considerin' we two are the oones who are takin' the risk in this joob." Spittle landed onto the cobblestoned street, before going on, "Ye wanna us booth 'o steal a book froom anoth'r witch and deliv'r i' 'o ye. And if'n this she-devil or the crown catches us, we mustnae giv' up oour employ'r."

Jaded gaze flicked from the bird-loving witch to Elias. "Seems 'o me tha' in ord'r fer us 'o do this joob well and within all o' yer terms? We mus' needs the prop'r paymen'."

"One hundred and twenty gold sovereigns."

It was an astronomical amount. More than most ever saw in a lifetime. And it was more than enough to set she and her loved ones up in a life of rural bliss.

Part of the blonde brigand secretly wished that the witch would be offended by the insane price. It would give them reason to leave this alley, go back to their flat and drink away memories of this meeting. A trembling work-roughened hand took the folded parchment from the sorceress' pale well-manicured one. Lack of drinking before the meeting was setting her hands to shaking - a telltale need for her to bow to the thirst. A hasty glance to the contents, before handing it over to Elias. A mere touch of his fingertips gave her a spark of reassurance. They could do this! They'd managed a harder job, even escaped away with a bigger fortune!

Ailova met Elias' gaze, nodding in return. This would only be possible if her were at her side. The superstitious bandit was well-known for running the other direction at even a hint of the supernatural. Fortunately, with Elias partnering up - this fortune would soon be theirs.
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby Rance » Thu Jan 07, 2016 10:47 am

This was, first and foremost, Ailova's score. She increased the demanded price by a fifth of itself, a tax of sorts on the danger and the job presented. The brigand glanced over at me; she knew her prices and demands, didn't shy away from this feathered figure, her highborn language, her cool — and inhuman — confidence. I caught the tiny bag of coins like it was something disease-ridden. Thirty sovereigns could make a weaker man hold his tongue.

"One hundred and twenty sounds about right," I agreed with Ailova, still speaking to the two-legged crow standing before us. "But—"

(I feared Ailova would loose her tongue on me later for this one)

"—we do this job by our standards, and our rules; thirty sovereigns doesn't buy you loyalty. You don't avoid implication in this should the show turn to shit. This ain't about loyalty — this is about a mutually-beneficial job. A job. Don't think I wouldn't sell you down the river if it meant saving our lives.

"You're thin on reconnaissance. Who says this won't ignite into a total clusterfuck you haven't warned us about? I don't want to owe you a fuckin' thing if this proves too difficult for us to manage. Over a godsdamned witchbook." My voice had thinned itself to a hard, malicious whisper. Ailova'd already done the spitting, so I refrained. "You don't choose how it gets done, or by what methods. All that matters is that you get your tome and we get paid. We provide, you pay.

"That's the extent of our relationship."

And then, because I'd probably let my mouth overload my ass a little too much, I put both of my hands into the air as if to say, There, I'm done, and spared a glance in Ailova's direction. From the outset, she controlled this. Her connection, her standards. But if I could help it, I didn't want us play the part of cattle — neither for cheap work (she'd ensured that) nor for slaughter (that one, I took as my responsibility).

I slipped the coin I'd been holding into my pocket and took the sliver of parchment from my partner. From the only woman I cared to trust. And for a moment or two too long, I kept my fingers on her hand, my palm covering her trembling digits for a morsel of a second. She needed a drink.

Besides, two rats sharing back alley deals with a bustled lass was never often an innocent endeavor.
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby CherryStatic » Fri Jan 08, 2016 3:58 am

And there it was. One hundred and twenty gold sovereigns.

The witch raised a hand to her mouth in an attempt to politely conceal the grin that threatened to spread across her pale face. She supposed that this was an attempt by the woman standing opposite her to show some clout when it came to negotiating. And while she knew a great many things more than Ailova and her companion at that particular moment, namely that money was of no particular concern to her, it wouldn't do to provoke them. At this point, it was far more important to placate the two, to some small extent.

"Very well." she said smoothly, as though pushing the wrinkles out of a sheet of bunched silk. "One hundred and twenty gold sovereigns seems like a fair price, little magpie, considering the personal risk involved in recovering the book."

Her eyes moved--slid like oil on water--to Elias when he chimed in, further dictating the course of events that lay ahead of them. Her slight smile betrayed little of the thoughts that passed through her mind as she studied him. She heard what he said for the most part, but the words themselves were not important. Not to her. She delved a little deeper, studying the set of his jaw as he spoke, the defensive, protective manner of his body language, the way he challenged her with his gaze. He had realized that she was not as similar to him as he had initially believed...or hoped. And still he puffed out his chest.

Is this the way you challenge the fear that grips you at your core, little falcon? By yelling into the night and beating against the empty air with your fists? Dragging everything you cherish into the pit with you, trying to shield them all the while?

She shivered imperceptibly, resisting the urge to run her tongue across burgundy lips at the mere thought. Humans never failed to fascinate. When she spoke, it was with carefully selected words, stitched together for his sake.

"Keep in mind, little falcon, that I chose the little magpie for a reason. Whatever your beliefs, I am not a foolish woman; I would not place this task in the hands of a simple cutpurse, nor would I dream of paying them so handsomely for the job. If I have chosen to conduct business with your friend", she offered him a knowing smirk, "then it is only because I think that she is up to the task, and if she was so obviously inclined to bring you along for the ride, as it were, then she must believe the same thing about you."

"I leave this matter to your discretion, naturally. You can mull over the details on your own time, make all of the important decisions. My concern is the book. I care about nothing else in the end."

All at once, her eyes glimmered brightly, seeming to drink him in. The alleyway around Elias fell away, the world tinged an inky shade of black. The sounds of the city nightlife that had surrounded them a second before seemed muffled, as though they came to him from a great distance. And she was there, suddenly, within a hair's breadth of him, staring down her regal nose into his eyes without the slightest trace of fear or misgiving, her generous chest flush with his own. His body was slow to respond, as though mired in molasses, but his eyes and mouth were free to do as they pleased.

You speak loudly, little falcon, but you say little. Is it control you seek, control over your own life? Or do you simply wish to claim dominion over fate itself? She placed a hand on his sturdy shoulder, letting her fingers trail down his arm until they alighted on the concealed weapon in his sleeve. Do you want to break the pieces of the puzzle that you don't like? The pieces that you don't understand? Do you believe that, by doing so, you will still manage to see the bigger picture?

Her hands joined one another on his face, gently cupping his cheeks. Her lips were a scant inch from his own, her voice warm water between them. Her eyes held him, skewering him to the spot. Go on, then. Claim dominion. Crush me. She mouthed the words slowly, letting them fill him with the possibilities they presented. Squeeze the life from my broken body and know the extent of control that mankind hungers for. The world is yours for the plucking. Bring your weapon down upon me. Show me your fire.

He was slammed back into his body, the world returning to him in a rush. The witch had not moved from her position across from them, speaking in a polite tone to Ailova about further perks of the job and what they entailed. She did not so much as spare him a glance, her attention on the brigand. She seemed for all the world to be completely unaware of what had just transpired.

"...additional payment if I am particularly impressed, of course." she was saying to the highawaywoman. "And I will consider doing further business with you and your partner, naturally. Heists such as these are impressive feats to pull off. They require a certain amount of skill and...gumption."

She smiled pleasantly, innocently.
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby highawaywoman » Fri Jan 08, 2016 8:13 am

The longer this meeting went on - the more she wished to leave. They had the details. They knew their mark and the prize they were seeking. Now that coin had been traded - the price agreed upon? It was time to go!

The highwaywoman glanced to Elias as he fell silent during the rest of her discourse with the bird witch. He didn't meet her gaze, nor did he retort with a sharp comeback. That made her fidget in her boots. The more the witch prattled on, tossing offhand compliments to Ailova's prowess as a bandit - the more ill at ease she grew. They weren't genuine compliments. They were a way to pacify the brigand. Ailova knew the game well - had worked for nobs who'd hired her to rob a competing neighbor. It was apparent with the disingenuous way the witch smiled like a cat who'd just licked the inside of a butter churn.

"One hundred and twenty gold sovereigns seems like a fair price, little magpie, considering the personal risk involved in recovering the book."

I shooulda 'ave ask'd fer moore.

Elias continued to silently stare forward, not meeting her gaze. Aye, twas time to end this meeting and grab a drink. Then plan. And plan some more.

"Verra well. Thank ye koindly fer yer toime. I do believe we be doone 'ere fer noow. I'll send word when the joob be complete."

It was easy to look away from the disconcerting witch, Ailova focused on the man at her side. A hand went to his elbow as she shook it gently to rouse him back from whatever daydreams he'd sunk himself in. Which was odd. Elias was not the daydreaming sort.

"Elias. Elias! Toime 'o go." Once his attentions were grabbed, her straw-colored head tilted to the alley they'd come down. "Let us goo. This meetin' be oov'r fer noow."

Hopefully, the two could leave posthaste!
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Re: A New Game is Afoot!

Postby Rance » Fri Jan 08, 2016 11:53 am

I should have never let go of the coin.

The departure from reality was jarring, sudden, like I'd inadvertently stepped from the threshold of a fire-warmed building into a bitter world of coolness and silence. I turned my head, the motion seeming to take forever, an eternity, and Ailova Smith — who'd been so vibrant and colorful seconds before, like still-life — became a running watercolor, a fragment of my reality that was blotted out. Unclear. Distant. A distorted image. Like I'd been submerged in water and she was standing on the shore, unreachable and alien, unable to hear me or see me...

The sounds of Myrkentown had been bottled up and corked away. I could barely hear them anymore.

But she — Feathers, I'd decided to call her — was right there in front of me, tangible and unaffected in her image or presence, as if the veil that had suddenly obscured the alley fell away around her, or she was perfectly immune to the sluggard of a world. Every hair on my body leaped up to violent attention. She brought herself close, touched my cheeks, spoke in a whisper that connected the air between us with a thin thread of sound.

Is it control you seek, control over your own life?

Do you want to break the pieces of the puzzle that you don't like? The pieces that you don't understand?

...know the extent of control that mankind hungers for. The world is yours for the plucking. Bring your weapon down upon me. Show me your fire.


The words were worms wriggling through the softer meat of my brain. She aimed to twist and contort. Her voice was a warm, naked skin against my conscience. She touched the hard knot of leather and stone under my sleeve. I could have lifted a hand, then, and alighted it on her breast. She'd have allowed me that bestial weakness, that economy of flesh, that temptation that would have turned my natural instinct into a weakness. She could bend and break you. She could stick her fingers into your skull and play you like some magnum puppeteer. She could, if you let her, she could, she could...

"You," was all I could manage, "don't know a thing about me. You don't even know my—"

Name.

Elias.

The very act of denial tore my flesh away, or so I thought; I felt a whisper of dull pain begin to grow into a silent scream underneath my skin, like a hundred straight-razors had started to carve me apart form within. And then—

Elias!

So I swam for that voice instead, imagining sending my body careening through stubborn waters, ones that demanded I let go and vanish beneath the tides. Swimming, swimming, lungs swollen and weighed down like rocks. If I'd been in a boat, cast afloat upon the glittering black waters, I'd still be no closer, but I'd row and I'd row—

Toime 'o go.

Ailova.

I blinked. The world as it had been seconds before bled back into being before my eyes. Sounds of night and the alley-stink of shit and rot broke through an invisible membrane. I turned my head. I saw her. Hair the color of tarnished gold. A cutlass angled like a misplaced comma against her hip. Her breath had the pungent odor of whiskey and her fingers, I remembered, wore a farmhand's calluses. Her gilded teeth gleamed when she spoke, the artificial replacements a treasure to frame her tongue. I knew my name; I knew my name, and I knew hers...

I turned to leave with her, saying nothing to Feathers, to the tremors in my brain. I touched Ailova with my eyes. Perhaps she didn't feel. Perhaps she did. And when I said it, hoarse and distant, I hoped she sensed the thousands of words hidden away behind the simpler ones—

"Thank you."
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