“To answer what you did not ask, they are in my service, yes. I suppose among us organizers I am the most likely to have such contacts, though to entertain they were hired by Estelle amuses me. Nevertheless, to find such soldiers your search would need to take you across seas, not cities.”
Evelynn begins to pay more attention to the conversation. Alexander raises a hand, and beckons one of the plumed soldiers over to him. “Raise your helmet for the lord, if you will.”
They walks towards the four of them, bee-lining. Almost mechanically they removes one hand’s grip from their weapon, clutching their helmet and removing it.
The soldier is a woman, though her head is shaved of any hair. Her features are rather elven, thin, delicate and sharp. Her skin is an ashen gray, slightly darker than her polished armor, and her pupil-less eyes are a soft amber-like yellow. Something about her appearance and mannerism comes across as unsettling, almost disturbing.
She looks directly to Alexander, though doesn’t speak a word. The noble resumes the introduction.
“You do not strike me as a scholar, Varianna, and even less so one versed in knowledge of the Planes, so forgive my lecture. The Plane of Shadows and the Plane of the Ethereal are linked to ours, the former acting as a buffer to our plane and the latter. In some places of the world, the Ethereal Plane is thin, nigh non-existnt. In such places, the taint of darkness becomes apparent, and travel between our realms becomes a mundane matter rather than one of magic. In my youth, I found such a place, and it is from there where this soldier and those like her hail.”
The woman is expressionless and does not move in the slightest during Alexander’s speech. “Have you questions for one like her? I can have one visit your offices for any inquiries you may possess?”
Gerard crosses his arms, hunching over a bit though keeping his stance wide. He eyes Marcus, smiling. “If I recall correctly, bud, you were the challenger here. I just wanted to hear the story then you start talking about out-drinking me.” Gerard smirks. “’Course I’m sure everyone would believe your side of it before mine. Challenging others is half what I am known for.”
“Why would I care for Halcyon?” she begins, "I mean no offense towards this friend, but why her and not the platinum haired golem-girl? Or the handsome soldier? Or Estelle’s little prize? Or your sister?” Romane smiles, though she puts on a mocking pout. “We could have had a real party, I already had the wine uncorked, Marcus."
“Quit on the flirting, or wait till I'm out of earshot." Gerard focuses his attention on a scuff on his sleeve, scratching it annoyed. "And you best start caring about Hal, sis. Me and her got a date in the future.” He laughs boisterously. “I see our future so clear I should open my own Oracle business, huh?”
Beatrice laughs politely, behavior perhaps automatic given her brother's frequent parties and gatherings. She does little to hide her disdain for Gerard. “Best be careful, Gerard. ‘Hal’ is being charmed by a warrior. A real man.” She grips Marcus tightly, giving him a slight tug away from Romane.
Mirabelle smiles as Raphael responds to her. “Ah, zat was your chance to win me over, Raphae!. All zat you you had to do was say something like,” she puts on a deeper voice, impersonating Raphael though keeping her accent, “I am not zee angel, Mirabelle, after all you are zee one with your head in zee clouds.” The Sylph sighs, air spewing from her like a pair of bellows. “You would have had a new best pal. Zee idea of second chances never appealed to me, but for Estelle, maybe I will give you one. ”
It almost seems like her jabs and jokes seem only to be to see how they will have Estelle to react. Her interest and involvement in the conversation seem to start and end with Estelle Bellerose.
You notice, however, that one moment seemed to catch her genuine interest in you. Your reaction to Mirabelle's remark seems to have been noticed by her, though not by Estelle it seems.
Estelle smiles. “Don’t do her jokes for her, Raphael, let her live with the shame. Do you want to hear the rumor-mongerer’s rumor?”
Mirabelle sighs. A second wind comes forth from her. It appears she already knows what Estelle has to say. “I publish secrets, not rumors, Stella. Zee difference eez fact from fiction.”
“Belle doesn't start rumors, but I don't hold myself to the same standard. How is this one, Raph?" Estelle covers her mouth with her hand, leaning forward, pretending she is spreading gossip. "I've heard she has a journal full of her little wordplays. Puns on the wind, the clouds, the sky, the air. I’ve seen it, read it even. She makes them ahead of time, even leads conversations so she can say them. Crazy, but it must be true."
Estelle leans back, smiling at the Sylph before looking back to the lawyer. "Which do you think: rumor or secret?"
As Alexander begins explaining, Seth listens curiously. When he poses the question at the end of his small lecture Seth can't help but smile. "I would very much like that. You had my interest before, but now you have my full fledged attention." Seth inspects the woman and her armor a bit more closely. As he does so he continues. "I'm not sure how this all works. So you went through this one of these places and ended up in another plane? And when you returned they came back with you?"
After noting how soon the auction seems likely to resume, Halcyon opens up her Harrow case and sets it on a chair. The light level in the vicinity gradually groww dimmer in a circle around Halcyon and her youthful, enthusiastic audience of two.
She shuffles her harrow deck as she speaks to the couple. "I'll be happy to do a quick reading. If you want evidence of my prophetic ability, you can talk to Vincent and a few others here. On New Year's Eve, I had a premonition that someone would be murdered, perhaps poisoned. Sadly, it came true, and even with our best efforts to sniff out the plot, it succeeded and a woman died."
Then she adds, to lighten the mood, "Don't worry, I don't care whether you were invited or invited yourselves. I'm glad you're here. Nobility is a state of mind, not something that can be inherited."
She finishes her shuffling, sets the deck on the case's open surface, and invites the two to place hands on the deck as she places her hand on theirs. While in physical contact, she slips into a focused trance to better gain insights on them.
After a half minute of trance, she opens her eyes and takes the deck, dealing cards ten cards face down in an inverted pyramid with one card nearest her spreading out to four cards closest to Silas and Rosalie.
Cards are dealt in 4 rows, 1 in the lowest row, 2 in the 2nd, 3 in the 3rd, and 4 in the 4th row. After revealing the bottom card, which represents an important aspect of a goal that the subject has, the subject picks on of the two cards in the second row. It is turned over and interpreted, as part of the past influences. Then on of the two cards above the selected card is chosen from the 3rd row, which represents a choice made in the present toward the goal. Finally a card above this card is selected from the 4th row, representing future influences.
The Idiot Intelligence NE Upright
The Inquisitor Intelligence LN Reversed
The Marriage Charisma LN Upright
Duplicate
The Peacock Dexterity NN Reversed
"These cards represent various paths open to you. As I said, the future is not fixed, only certain circumstances," Halcyon begins, casting her glance left and right behind her dark glasses to spot if anyone is listening in. If she senses anyone eavesdropping, she turns her head to look at them and waits until they move on.
Halcyon turns over the card closest to her. "This card represents a situation you are in, something that is important." The card shows a man with his hands bound behind his back, a goofy looking oversized mask over his head, being goaded on by a pair of gleeful goblins. The man has a wounded foot and an arrow in his shoulder. The title of the card is "The Idiot." As the card is turned over, an illusion manifests in the space just above the card, showing the same scene, except there are two 'idiots' and four goblins. The figures trudge in a circle as the goblins poke and prod them with pole arms and clubs.
Inwardly Halcyon groans. Be delicate, Halcyon, she tells herself. Thinking diplomatically, she then says, "There are some who see you as foolish, frivolous, or misinformed." She pauses to let them comment if they choose.
This is an important moment in the reading, because a Harrower must often rely on information from the subjects to guide her interpretation.
After Silas and Rosalie have had a chance to comment, Halcyon points to the two cards just above it. "These two cards represent a choice you made in the past that related to this situation. Choose one, please."
On closer inspection, the mercenary woman’s features draw less parallels with the elven people. Her hair, though mostly all shaven, appears white, as if it was bleached. Her ears aren't pointed, and her face is gaunt. Though her size is imposing in armor and with her spear, you feel as though outside of her metal suit and without her weapon she would appear rather frail. She doesn’t move as Seth looks at her, still staring blankly forward, as if fixated on something distant.
“At the time, I shared your confusion. During our expedition, we lost many of our numbers, including our expert on matters magical. It appeared to be a transition between the plains. Slowly where we ventured twisted into a darker, more treacherous landscape. On their service, the tale is rather lengthy. In short, their people were plagued by a malevolent force, much akin to our nation’s centuries ago.
“They believed a debt was to be paid after we resolved the situation, and their warriors repay it. Milal,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder, “can tell the full story, later of course.” He looks to the woman. “Helmet on, return to post.”
The solder does as instructed without acknowledgement. She places her helmet back upon her head, spins on her heel, and returns to the door. Her crimson tassel on her spear and crimson plume upon her head trails behind her.
“It was nice to meet your acquaintance. Forgive me, but I have other matters to attend.” Alexander cracks the thinnest of possible smiles. “Lucia, Evelynn, another time perhaps.” The man walks around the counter, taking a stroll towards Sinclair LeBlanc and the book-ish, young woman accompanying him.
Like children, Silas and Rosalie sit around Halcyon, taking her words as if they were the most marvelous of stories. When mentioning the murder, both become aghast with inflated though fleeting horror.
“We’re glad you’re here too, Miss Oracle! You’re making this the greatest, best, most wonderful one month anniversary!”
“To the future!”
As they place their hands on the deck, they look to each other, giggling giddily. They try to keep themselves still as Halcyon enters her trance, though they swing and sway with delight, faces carved in a seemingly permanent smile.
Others seem to eye the spectacle, most watching between the lulls within their conversations or out of the corner of their eyes. No one approaches, and the only crowd close enough to eavesdrop is composed of Augustine, Gill, and Verrill.
As the cards are drawn, the pair stare at the pictures with wonder. When each card is revealed, they both gasp, and speak the titles under their breathe. When the illusions are formed, Silas claps loud and quickly, Rosalie shrieks in excitement, though covers her mouth to silence herself.
“Look, honey! It’s us!” The two of them lean in to inspect closer.
“We’re so small!”
“We’re taking a beating!” He reacts as if he was watching a gladiatorial event, wincing at each blow.
“Fight back, Little-Me!” Her arms wrap around her legs, like she herself was taking the attacks of the illusory goblins.
“You can take ‘em! Cast a spell, dangit! C’mon! They’re even littler than you! Si-las! Si-Las! Si-Las!”
At Halcyon’s question, the two of them sit upright, cross their arms, and look around at the crowd.
“Foolish!? ‘Friv-less!?’ Who said that?”
“We have all the 'frivs' we could ask for, who'd be saying these things!?”
“We’re nobility today, they need to mind their manners!”
“Yeah! Lord and lady! Honored guests!”
The two lose any anger they had when they look upon the two cards they were asked to select between. They share a gasp, staring at one of the cards with disbelief. They quickly embrace while squealing with delight. Their voices are piercing: “MARRIAGE!”
They turn back to the oracle, both extending an arm, the two of them alternate poking the card to select it. They seem to have instantly forgotten the meaning of the card's position, and its importance to the past rather than the future.
“This one! This is our card!”
“We’re going to get married! Mar~ried! Married!”
“She’s the real deal! This proves it!”
“Our new, bestest friend, Miss Oracle, sees our love so far in the future!”
A small dynamic between them that you’ve noticed is that Rosalie tends to act first, and her actions and sentiments are usually reinforced or mirrored by Silas.
More than anything, the two of them seem to wear their hearts on their sleeves, giving little to no attempt to quell an emotional response. Their exaggerated reactions are almost caricatures of real emotions. Between The Marriage and The Idiot, you feel your drawing was oddly prophetic and perhaps a bit on the nose for the pair.
A few more items are brought to the stage, adding to the collection of items already relocated. A table is first brought up to place the smaller objects on. With the utmost care, the hired staff move the items, some of them spied upon by the party.
A long, twisting wooden staff.
An ornate, orange pistol with a flared barrel.
An uncut, olive-colored gem the size of a closed fist.
|
Gerard crosses his arms, hunching over a bit though keeping his stance wide. He eyes Marcus, smiling. “If I recall correctly, bud, you were the challenger here. I just wanted to hear the story then you start talking about out-drinking me.” Gerard smirks. “’Course I’m sure everyone would believe your side of it before mine. Challenging others is half what I am known for.”"my apologies, I've perhaps been speaking too much elvish this past week, the terms would have meant basically the same thing, challenging, or having been chalanged,"
“Why would I care for Halcyon?” she begins, "I mean no offense towards this friend, but why her and not the platinum haired golem-girl? Or the handsome soldier? Or Estelle’s little prize? Or your sister?” Romane smiles, though she puts on a mocking pout. “We could have had a real party, I already had the wine uncorked, Marcus."
"I mention her because the realm of the future is k e that she can gaze upon, she has visions and cards that she uses to focus them, it's really quite astounding if I do say so myself" he then laughs "regarding the quality of this gathering as a party, I feel that this place's function as a party is secondly to it's function as a charity, so of course it's lack in entertainment compared to one who's function was wholly devoted to it"
When his date chides Gerard Marcus laughs, but looks confused as she gently pulls him away. Though he obliges her.
"Very interesting this is a tale I look forward to hearing." Seth watches the woman walk away his attention still focused on her before returning back to Alexander. "For me as well. We can make arrangements for a proper meeting sometime in the future." As Alexander leaves, Seth takes a minute to process all of that information before turning back to Evelynn. "It seems as though all of my initial assumptions were nowhere close to correct. What did you think of the woman?"
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The two lose any anger they had when they look upon the two cards they were asked to select between. They share a gasp, staring at one of the cards with disbelief. They quickly embrace while squealing with delight. Their voices are piercing: “MARRIAGE!”
Once the couple selects their card, Halcyon obligingly turns the card over, revealing The Inquisitor. The card is reversed, as Halcyon viewed it. The dancing idiots recede in brightness as the Inquisitor rises and draws the attention of the pair. The inquisitor makes a stern and intimidating figure, holding a thick book with small notes falling from between its well-worn pages. He wears a mask and his head is covered with a hood. Two lengths of chain dangle from his body.
The inquisitor gestures as if giving a sermon. The goblins cease their poking and listen, as do the two figures in the masks. "The inquisitor represents the truth that cannot be denied. As inquisitors insist people tell them the truth, no matter what that truth is, so all people must accept the truth of reality. The inverted card means the decision was made that led you to this situation resulted from not accepting reality."
Halcyon pauses for a moment and then pushes on. "The most obvious truth I can sense in you is that you love each other. So I believe there were people in your lives who did not want to see the truth of your love. They thought you too young and immature for true love. Perhaps they tried to keep you apart."
After the pair has absorbed this idea, she urges them to pick one of the two cards directly above the one they have just chosen. "This represents a decision that has just been made or perhaps is about to be made." She turns it over and the card delights them. It is the card called The Marriage. The couple standing side by side with an infant in their arms is quite an odd couple. An illusion of the pair rises on the case. The woman seems to be made of water with features of fish and perhaps of a construct. The man is a humanoid of fire. Their infant wears a helmet used by divers.
The illusion of the inquisitor shifts roles and stands with his book open in front of the two, like a cleric at a marriage ceremony. "Not much needs to be said about this, except that this card can stand for many kinds of marriages, partnerships, and alliances. If a marriage of fire and water seems fated to fail, that just represents the elements that always try to break apart what has been joined together. No marriage is easy or without challenges."
After they comment on this, she says, "Now the card you've been waiting for, the one that represents the future that your choices are leading you to." The last card chosen is called The Peacock, but it looks like a cockatrice. On the case an illusion of a cockatrice rises and struts around trying to make eye contact with the illusion of the couple that just got married. The two only have eyes for each other and so the gaze of the cockatrice is not succeeding in turning them into stone.
"The enemy of any relationship is for it to be frozen into unchanging stone. The peacock is really a cockatrice, whose gaze can turn to stone. If either of the couple lets his or her attention wander from each other and the eternity that exists in each present moment, their love may be turned to stone. Do not let that happen. There may be those who call you too young for such a serious commitment, but do not let them hurt you with their laughter or their barbed spears."
Halcyon concludes the reading and waits for their questions. She folds up the case and the lighting returns to normal.
“Well, it’s been a damn good treat talking. Everyone ‘sides you and that pair of idiots are stiff as corpses, though that figures considering the host.” Gerard breaks into a laugh as his sister’s smile fades slightly. He looks to Romane. “A drink?” She shakes her head. “Well, you know where to find me.”
Gerard straightens up, no longer crouching over. He departs to the counter of the bar, demanding something strong.
Romane waits several seconds for her brother to leave and be out of earshot. “Triss, Marcus, I am terribly sorry about his behavior, please don't let what he does affect what you think of me. Being father’s favorite did horrid things to his ego.”
Romane casts a spell, and doesn’t attempt to hide it either. While Marcus has seen her thrice, never has he been able to pinpoint her expertise.
She speaks as the spell affects her. “Rather tame for one of Augustine’s signature bashes, for certain.” Her clothing changes with a flourish, slowly dissolving away in color to become white, the hem of her gown extending further to floor, a small cape appearing on her chest and stretches along her back. ““I wonder which of the two bleeding hearts he owned the favor?” Her hair changes, once down, but now braided. She appears a bit more sophisticated overall, certainly more tame.
“I’m afraid there are too many here I am obliged to mingle with, dear. As much as I’d love to have you to myself,” she turns her head, looking for her next spot, “I’ll spare you everyone’s envy.”
Romane smiles playfully. “Don’t be a stranger, Marcus.” She leaves, intercepting Alexander before he can reach his destination. The man doesn’t seem too glad to encounter her.
“When Emm became our family’s head, Romane volunteered to watch over Caroline and I to free up his time.” Beatrice’s face is turned to a pout as she watches Romane talk to Alexander. It seems interacting with the Vieuxpont pair drained her usually bright nature. “If Romane’s here, that is why Emm isn't. She plays with hearts, she is nasty, Marcus.”
After a sigh, her expression softens. “Glad you were here though, might of been bad for her if you weren't.” She smiles, tightening her arm around Marcus.
Rosalie and Silas both ponder over Halcyon’s words about “not accepting reality.” Before Rosalie can open her mouth, the oracle continues.
When Halcyon mentions their love, they both blush, something they've yet to do when interacting with the seer. Their hands crawl towards each other, wiggling their fingers to interlock as they star at the oracle. When Halcyon speaks of those that tried to keep them apart, the two nod slowly, awestruck by her reading.
No marriage is easy or without challenges.
After their bubbly reaction to seeing the card itself, they turn their attention to the illusion. They whisper among themselves how their baby will be much cuter. Hearing Halcyon’s interpretation, Rosalie casts a look to Silas and speaks with the utmost confidence. “That’s because no two like us’ve gotten married before, plain and simple!”
Halcyon’s words, perhaps coupled with the scene of the elemental-figures marriage and devotion, brings tears to both of their eyes. Rosalie sniffles to herself before the two of them erupt into applause. They rise to their feet and nearly tackle the oracle as they hug her.
“We’ll never forget this, Mademoiselle Oracle!”
“ You’re incredible, the realest, most wonderful, Miss Oracle!”
“Never, ever, ever change!”
“You aren’t allowed to, you hear?!”
The two let go of her, and look to each other with watery eyes. They seem to have found a genuine, reassuring happiness Halcyon's words. Both of their knuckles whiten as they grip of the other’s hand. Rosalie lets go of Silas, face turning in surprise.
“Silas! Our address! Give it to her!”
"Yes! I have it!" he cries out as he puts a hand into his outfit and searches for something. Silas removes a folded up piece of paper. The paper doesn’t look particularly well made, or perhaps has been severely worn. He unfolds it.
Silas gives Halcyon the paper. There is no address of any kind, rather a drawing that appears to have been made by a developing child. Underneath a [what is either a xylophone or a dock?], sitting beside the [what is either the ocean or snakes?] lie what the oracle presume to be a Galatian man and a Durendale woman who one might presume represent Rosalie and Silas. The pair appears oblivious to the fact that Halcyon is blind.
“I made this so new friends can find us! This is where we live! Visit, visit!”
“You have to, I mean, look at the crab we have! Isn’t it cute? Okay, we don’t have Crabby yet, but it's part of the dream, ain’t it?” He pincers his thumb and fingers together like such a creature. Rosalie laughs at first, but her mood quickly turns serious.
She adopts a hushed tone. “Darling, she doesn’t know what a crab looks like...”
The Galatian mimics the tone, covering his mouth as he speaks. “We can teach her honey, we just need to find the crab we’ve been looking for. Miss Oracle will learn by touch and sound.”
She appears determined, brow now low. “We’ll find Crabby. Not for us, but for Mademoiselle Oracle...”
Resolute, they both nod to each other before returning back to Halcyon.
Rosalie’s voice returns to its normal, boisterous nature. “Okay, it’s been agreed. We’ll teach you what a crab is. Fair trade for telling us our love would last forever, isn’t Silas?”
He shakes his head, disagreeing. “We already knew what Miss Oracle told us to be true, but she doesn’t have a single idea what a crab is! If anything, she should take us out to a meal as well.”
She nods, agreeing with his disagreement. “Okay, and she buys the grub. Glad we all agree.”
“To be blunt, unnerving.” She eyes distant red-plumed mercenaries by the western exits not focusing on the ones nearby. “Not because of her gray skin. Look at one of them now.” She waits for Seth to look. All of them are doing nothing of interest, justing standing.
After around ten seconds, she returns to her point. “They don’t move. At all. Not a fidget, not an itch, not a shift in weight. That isn’t discipline, that’s,” she pauses, brow furrowing. She lets out a sigh.. “Unnerving is all.”
Alexander’s walk north is interrupted by Romane Viuexpont, now sporting a white outfit more withdrawn than her previous attire.
Evelynn cracks a smile, looking at Seth’s blade. “Don't get me wrong though, they seem impressive. You want to see what they’re capable of as well, don’t you?”
"I am a regular at Marcus Tamarin's Tall Tail establishment. Why don't we run into each other there? I often give informal readings for people who are interested or interesting. I'll see if Marcus can find some crabs and a good recipe."
Halcyon sits as the pair move away. She puffs out her cheeks and blows the air out in a sigh of relief. She follows the sigh with a smile, however. She reaches down and pats Mako and then casts a glance at Mirabelle, wanting to talk to her before the event winds down.
"Hit the nail right on the head. On both accounts." Seth returns the smile. "I wonder how hard it would be get Alexander to agree to a mock battle between one of them and one of us. Hell a two on two would be even better." Seth looks back at one of the mercenaries. "They probably would put up one hell of a fight."
“Verrill told you! Worry not on health, Verrill will take care of that. Verill will need to call upon a friend in the Society, though they owe Verrill favors uncountable, unending, undoubtedly. But nevermind, nevermind. It is a chemist’s duty to test these hypotheses, such tests could save a great number of lives in the future. Verrill will set up the procedure, Verrill has a control experiment in mind, we need only adjust the alcohols and their rationing...”
He begins to think it over, face crossed with uncertainty now. “Verrill hopes you can keep your stomach, Doctor Sanz. Should Verrill’s method work, the test would appear more akin to a butcher’s shop than a medical lab.” He nods to himself, curled fingers on his chin. "Away from windows we should conduct this. It will be, ah, Verrill hates this term, "humane," but certainly grim, grisly, gross, even at a glance to those not aware of our altruistic nature,."
"I will let you handle the details, then. In the meantime, any news on the underground clinic?"
At mention of the Tall Tail Inn, the couple lights up. “We were there on New Year’s! It was the first place that let us in!”
“The bartender kept giving us free drinks!”
“I carved his name on the wall with a knife!”
“After I wrote hers! I did it first! Cut it extra deep to make it last”
“It’ll be there forever, darling, they’d need to replace the wall to get our names out!”
The two of them giggle to themselves, fondly regarding the memory. If today was their one month anniversary, they were together for just over a week then. They walk away together, holding hands as they look for food.
wanting to talk to her before the event winds down
Mirabelle bids farewell to Estelle and Raphael, embracing the former and giving a slight curtsy to the latter. The sylph shows a thin smile to Reyes, still silent and distant from the conversation. “Well, eet eez time to get some fresh air. I will be seeing zee two of you often, zat eez for certain.”
Mirabelle walks west, leaving the warehouse and remaining just outside by the mercenaries. Guillaumine, Marcus, and Halcyon all feel her breeze as she walks by.
Evelynn stops looking at the mercenaries. “If it wasn’t for business, Ravenhall wouldn’t agree. If it somehow bolstered his name however, I’m sure he would listen to the request.” Evelynn smiles, “Man puts his name on everything he owns. Ravenhall College, Ravenhall Apartments, even a Ravenhall Orphanage.”
She looks back to the mercenaries. “Hell of a fight. She looked scrappy, those’re the kind that give you a battle to remember. Sure me or you'd end up victorious, but I wonder how one of your boys would do?”
Verrill looks around to those nearby, scanning the crowd to make sure it is safe to speak. His voice is quieter and less excited than moments prior. “Verrill as gained the approval of two Elders, the rest will follow. Some still have, err, apprehensions to allowing your staff down below.”
The ratfolk man smiles a toothy-grin, voice high in hope. “Verrill digresses, the clinic merely requires time. Already ratfolk chemists have given Verrill their word to support. If Verrill receives approval by Skiver Talltail or Elder Darkwhiskers, the clinic will rise in days rather than months.”
Augustine seems to have spaced out the entire conversation between the doctor and the alchemist. When he comes to, he looks across the warehouse, monitoring the guests. He taps the two of them on their shoulders.
"How wonderful, the two of you. Hopefully when I stop by it will be on good terms, right, doctor?" He laughs to himself, glancing back to the stage. "I jest, surely you'd come directly to me if that was the case. It was lovely, but I crave attention that two people couldn't possible give me." The host bows, leaving to the stage's steps.
Augustine doesn't head to the podium, but rather to the stage's edge, where he calls Reyes over. The young man walks to the stage, and the two of them begin a quiet conversation. While still a foot away from Augustine, Reyes is closer than he's ever been to another person at the auction.
roll + ability + feat
"Hmm, I see. If necessary, I can meet with either or both to try and speed things along." Gill pauses for a moment. "I'll leave it to your discretion, though: I'm not particularly adept at politics, and I wouldn't want to harm our cause with some misunderstanding."
After Mirabelle exits the warehouse, Gill adds, "Ah, if you would excuse me, I think I need another break from this mask, and perhaps some fresh air. I will be just outside, if you need me."
She makes her way out, coming alongside Mirabelle. She removes her hat, and turns to Mirabelle. "Mademoiselle, would you mind terribly holding my hat while I take off this mask? It goes more quickly with both hands."
"If it were one on ones, I think some of my better men would be able to take them. In a group fight, I'm not too sure. Their..." Seth does air quotes. "discipline, makes me a bit unsure of how they would work together." Seth looks back at one of the mercenaries for a moment and then back to Evelynn. "Not sure what to call it honestly. Its not loyalty, and if its discipline then I don't think its humane. No one I have ever met is that still."
Halcyon expects the auction to resume as Augustine moves toward the stage, but when he begins talking instead, she stands and walks with Mako toward the middle aisle and then back toward the bar to get something to drink. As she walks past Raphael chatting with Estelle, she gives the lawyer a knowing wink, although she realizes he will probably miss it behind the dark lenses of her special glasses.
After passing them, she sees Vincent with his potion master at the bar. She approaches the two and says, "Vincent?" Once he confirms he is there, helping to keep the impression fresh that she can't see very well, she asks, "Are you happy with the way things are going?"
She holds her empty glass where the bartender can see and waits for him to ask her what she is drinking. She orders some hard mulled cider.
The ratfolk chuckles. “Verrill suggests you not waste your time with Skiver. Even should you meet him, his hobbies are quite the opposite of yours. On his good days, he keeps clinics like yours in business.” The ratfolk nods on the doctor’s exit, taking a seat at a nearby chair. It seems there aren’t many in attendance he would care to speak to.
The warmth provided by the many bodies within the warehouse quickly fades as Gill exits. Outside, it is rather cold, chilly with the light wind that emanates from the Sylph.
Mirabelle extends a dainty hand, plucking the cap by the brim. She looks at the leather hat before placing it upon her own head. She lowers to a squat, an effort in her dress. “Black eez such a dreadful color, dear, eez all your wardrobe like this?” She smiles as the dwarf removes her mask. “Mask eez off, business eez over, no?” She looks in at Verrill before returning the hat to the dwarf.
“Heard a Special Forces squad once all had their minds synced with the help of a decent mage, wonder if they're like that?. Maybe they’re like Vincent, veins filled with more potion than blood.” She shakes her head slightly, letting out a small scoff. She doesn’t seem to approve of her brother’s practices.
“Or Willing compulsion, like those Galatian Guardians to their lords. Whatever it is, can't be natural.”
“Here, Halcyon,” Vincent calls out, reaching to her to grab her hand. He smiles at the oracle. “Happy barely describes it. Let me recount: first you did me the honor of attending, a holy man wished me well, Evelynn is speaking to a man without emasculating him, my contribution proved worthwhile to bring, and I’ve gained a few vials I can put to good use. ”
“- Vials your personal chemist could have made you cheaper,” Sibylle adds without pause. “Do you anticipate lifting heavy things in the future?” She doesn’t seem annoyed or betrayed, but does want some reason why she wasn’t asked to make them.
“No, but now I am prepared should should I need to.” He keeps his smile, returning to his date. “I was considering taking your consultation, but thought it perhaps impolite to take that from someone else.”
Vincent looks across the counter to Gerard in a passing glance. “Besides, I prefer Halcyon the lady than Halcyon the Oracle. ” He looks back to find Sibylle staring at him, nodding slightly (perhaps in agreement?).
The bodyguard is flustered after what he said. “But, um, what of your time? That was, ah, a reading you did for those two, was it not?”
The bartender from earlier seems to have been replaced with another servant, one more formally and fittingly dressed who doesn’t bumble as she prepares drinks. Halcyon is given a new glass rather than her previous one, and is promptly given her cider.
Sibylle seems to have a juice of her own while Vincent has water.
Nearby, Rosalie and Silas sip on a shared multi-colored beverage through two straws. The drink is adorned with skewered fruits.
Gerard seems to be drinking a stout, or some other type of dark ale, while the Halfling officer beside him drinks tea or coffee.
"Most of it, sadly. Stained leather is an expense I can't justify for my clinic. I own some more traditional clothing for when I'm not working, but I rarely have the opportunity to wear them." Gill carefully removes the mask, hanging it by some of its hooks from her backpack rather than properly stowing it, but does not remove the coif or pull her hair from her cloak before accepting the hat back. "Merci, Mademoiselle," she adds as she returns the hat to her own head.
"Only a break. The eye of the storm, if you will." Gill forces a wry smile. "I considered the bar, but just about everyone in there has already paired up, and I'd hate to intrude on an ongoing conversation. Besides, the wind feels nice out here." Gill turns back to the west, closing her eyes as she takes a great breath. She smiles as the wind plays with the bits of hair that have escaped the coif, tickling her face.
Seth does not react to her obvious disapproval of her brother's methods, he just nods and continues listening. "I don't know about you, but I prefer my mind not to be messed with." Seth pauses for a moment, and looks as though he is about to sneeze. He brings his elbow up to his mouth as two rather loud sneezes come out in rapid succession. "Sorry about that... Anyway, you're right it can't be natural and to make things worse is that I'm not used to their sort of demeanor. My boys are lively, disciplined but lively. I like it that way though, it keeps things interesting and a hell of a lot less boring on a job."
“No, but now I am prepared should should I need to.” He keeps his smile, returning to his date. “I was considering taking your consultation, but thought it perhaps impolite to take that from someone else.”
Vincent looks across the counter to Gerard in a passing glance. “Besides, I prefer Halcyon the lady than Halcyon the Oracle. ” He looks back to find Sibylle staring at him, nodding slightly (perhaps in agreement?).
The bodyguard is flustered after what he said. “But, um, what of your time? That was, ah, a reading you did for those two, was it not?”
Halcyon blushes at Vincent's compliment and takes a demure sip of her drink. When asked about her reading, she nods and says, "Just a quick Path spread. I do that kind of thing at Marcus' place if I think someone might benefit from some ideas about what to do next."
A moment ago, Halcyon had pretended not to notice Vincent's glance at Gerard, but it got her thinking. Speaking more quietly, she says, "Later I'm going to want some insight into the man who bought my contribution. Strangely, I don't think I know a thing about him and I pride myself on knowing who's who in Roland." It then occurs to her that although in her mind, 'later' merely meant after the event as they walked home together, she may have inadvertently given him a different impression. It may also give Vincent a chance to demonstrate whether he harbors any jealousy or worry about her spending time with this man.
Mirabelle shares a smile when Gill lets out the sylph’s kind of wordplay. It doesn’t appear forced, however. Several moments pass where Mirabelle lets the silence hang. The conversations within the warehouse blend into incoherent ramblings, and the passing dock workers shout out to one another what their next job is.
It seems a large trading vessel is coming to port, and they’re paying anyone who can assist unloading. Many a men seem flustered, rushing to help and secure their share.
“Eet eez nice, eezn’t eet?” She tilts her head to the sky, watching the clouds slowly move across the sky. “Home eez far away for me. Eet was a place where zee wind was, ah, was zee source of zee life for my people. It would carry zee seeds and spread zee orchids across our valley. Eet would push zee clouds through our villages, and give us rain. Eet would carry our whispers for miles.”
She raised her hand up, reaching high. “I often wonder if zeese winds are zee same as zee ones back home.” Her forlorn glance falls back to the dwarf, turning back to a smile. “Zee two of us don’t quite belong here, do we?”
What she meant by “here” seems rather unclear, be it the party, Roland, or perhaps Durendal. As Augustine’s voice rings out from the warehouse, the sylph lets out a sigh. She rises from her squat, though lingers outside.
Evelynn knocks her fist against her armor twice, an approval to Seth’s words. “My rare trips to the arena are what keep me alive. I’m sure you know the feeling. Vaillencourt (Know. Noble) pays well, but defending a man with no enemies gets old quick.”
Evelynn looks across the counter to her brother and Halcyon. She smiles slightly, though quickly returns to a stern expression. “Best tell me what goes on when that girl arrives at your place. If my sponsor is trounced by anyone but me, you know I best hear it from you, Varianna.”
Evelynn doesn’t seem to care to returning to the auction as Augustine attempts to start it again. She seems to have had little strike her interest or little funds to gather anything that did. She is more than content to continue the conversation, wherever it may lead and wherever Seth goes.
“Free for the common man and bleed the nobles dry,” he jokes, “I can’t help but approve of the idea. The idea doesn’t work quite as well in my profession, short of skulking streets late at night as a vigilante.” Vincent’s smirk lowers as the oracle mentions Gerard.
The bodyguard pauses slightly. “Later, right. I only know a few rumors of the man himself, but I’m familiar with the family.” He doesn’t appear glad to talk about what he knows. Perhaps he does have some envy or disdain for Gerard.
Vincent is slow to return to the auction, though his interest returns fully when Halcyon’s name is announced. His brow rises, and he holds out his arm to escort her to the stage.