• Graded • It Looks Good on Paper

[Maltruism]

"It Looks Good on Paper"

The Four in Hand, Scalvoris Town, Zi'da 40, arc 717

The Glass only confirmed what she already suspected. The two were not what they pretended to be. But Graeslin already knew that none of the people her research had selected were truly what they pretended to be...

A guardswoman and her peach-cheeked little brother, a wondering street performer, and a seemingly unemployed layabout that somehow had the funds to also afford a housing unit in Etzos. With the strict monitoring of those who used the Eclipse Portals, it added to the strength of any necessary alibis that their group would be complemented by citizens of cities on near opposite sides of the world.

But the two here in 'The Four in Hand' were the truly integral parts of her plan. She was not certain that they were actual acquaintances. The current press of patrons may have forced them to share a table, and there was that hesitation to their interaction that suggested it. But there was one thing they did share, a common heritage; and one they would not wish to have spread about.

Graeslin fingered the monocle for an additional moment before returning it to her vest pocket. It had given her what she needed to recruit this "freelance" privateer, and his present company, whom her contacts had verified was a medic. He was rumored to be captain of a vessel known to embark on unscheduled rendezvous with vessels that came away significantly lightened in valuables.

Of course, Graeslin had no moral objections to piracy. It was the vocation she'd found herself to be best suited for. Her first mate, Den, was a good man as well, if the term "good" was being used to describe an unhesitating willingness to inflict pain in creative ways to those who demonstrated an inconvenient reluctance to share their wealth. It was also to his credit that this same lack of hesitation applied to his swift deference to his own captain's whims, be they intimate, reckless, stealthy, violent, or even maritime.

Den was even now approaching the pair's table with a platter liberated from the bar. In addition to a complimentary pair of ales, which he would state had been provided courtesy of Graeslin herself, along with a prompt in her direction, there would be a note citing her knowledge of the fact that they were both Yludih, and that this fact would remain unvoiced so long as they greeted Den and herself as old friends during the course of their enjoyment of the free drink. The four would sit amiably for the duration and then depart the tavern.

Graeslin would explain what she needed, as well as what illicit gains the pair stood to gain, as they made their way to the point where the next phase of the operation would be set in motion. The fact was she needed a ship. There was treasure off the shore of the Bailey Peninsula which separated the landlocked city of Etzos from the Orm'Del Sea, where the loot had been stashed. Wild rumors of supernatural hazards and subsequent lost valuables had created a circus at sea in that area.

For the most part, ignorant and uninformed treasure hunters were out getting themselves killed in mad, ill-equipped attempts to wrest lost treasure from the angry Zi'da seas. But there were a few crews that knew what they were doing. They were biding their time, waiting for these madmen to die or give up, taking the government-provided water Defiers back with them. She and her crew had been recognized however, and despite the general amnesty extended to pirates in Foster's Landing, they'd been hauled in on trumped-up charges, undoubtedly to be put to the question until they gave up the location of her loot.

She could not allow this, but knew that torture would flay this information from one of them soon enough. She had to act quick if she was going to keep her "retirement" safe. She'd put her network to work to find partners for this endeavor, and this was what it had come up with; a group of people criminal enough to take part, but not so criminal as to be experienced enough to know how to put a plan of betrayal in place quickly enough to come away with more than a fair percentage.

As for the Etzos contingent, they would even now be receiving letters "inviting" them to the strategy meeting in Foster's Landing. Her second mate, Brigg, a mountain of a man, with impatience to match his size, would be seeing to this task at this time. He was also keeping the other four members of her crew, that had not been arrested, out of sight for now. But they would attend the meeting as well.

!

Message from: Matruism

So, all but Tio and Aqihlih are in Foster's Landing. We'll go on the basis that you have all received your letters advising discrete attendance to the making of plans for the jailbreak. You may all feel free to choose whatever motivation prompted your cooperation. This can be anything from greed, to extortion, to simple boredom. Assume that Graeslin and her crew know what it is that will motivate you, and have made appropriate mention of it in your letter. You may post in whatever order you want, but have your first post result in your arrival at the meeting place. This meeting will be in an upstairs room in a Foster's Landing inn, with the adjoining rooms also paid for, to prevent eavesdropping. It will be called The Riverbank Inn, and is descriptive in that it is on the Southwood River side of town, rather than the ocean side. There is no write-up, so don't worry too much about details. But there will, of course, be complimentary drinks. We're pirates, not savages!

[Tio Silver]

Things seemed to be going his way that night at first. A free pint of ale from a secret admirer was the icing of the cake of an already lucky evening, and at first Tio thought nothing of the little slip of paper that came with it. He thanked Den heartily for the drink, nodded in appreciation to Graeslin, and took a large swig of the ale without a care. It was only when he turned his attention to reading the message that the cold pit of horror started to grow in his stomach, and when he'd finished reading his normally bright face had turned unusually pale. Something he'd feared might happen for many years had come to pass after all. Somebody knew his secret, and was threatening to expose it to the world unless he complied with her demands! He was being blackmailed!

Keeping his racial identity a secret was a matter Tio took very seriously. Sure Scalvoris seemed like an open and tolerant place to all races at the moment, but how quickly would that turn if someone tried to restart the Yludih persecutions again? People feared what they couldn't see after all, which made a race like his that was said to be able to steal faces a very easy target. How had this Graeslin woman known?! He'd been so careful to keep the truth a secret! Well however she'd done it, Tio couldn't deny that she had him by the balls right now. What choice did he have but to do as she demanded?

Doing as the note said, Tio hid his tumultuous feelings behind a friendly expression, and went over to greet Graeslin and her cronies as he would old friends. Only the sharpness in his eyes, which glared at them like a dagger, betrayed his true feelings on the matter. With a forced smile he followed her, listening to her brief explanation of the dilemma she was in, and maintained a frosty glare even as she led them through the woods to a secluded glade where she'd hidden some kind of strange orb. This orb, it turned out, was an artifact of some kind, as when she held it up the world around them seemed to twist and shimmer in some thoroughly disturbing ways, as if they were standing in the middle of a falling water drop, and before he knew they were all standing in the middle of some kind of office, completely surprising the funny old man sitting behind the desk with a plaque inscribed with the name 'Mr. Lagolla'.

When he arrived at the meeting point it was just behind Graeslin, which given his pirate-like attire could have perhaps given the others the impression that he was a member of her crew. But his independence from her was made clear when he made a point of taking a seat as far away from his blackmailer as possible and dropped his smiling facade, glaring at the other pirates in the room with unmistakable dislike. Still he wasn't brave enough to risk a direct confrontation with the people who knew his secret, and so maintained a stormy silence until the rest of the members had all arrived and taken a seat as well. At that point time and curiousity had taken the edge of his indignation, and he leaned forwards on his seat a bit to study to take a look at his colleagues.

"So, this is everybody right? How about some introductions before we talk shop? I'm Tio, freelance privateer extraordinaire, and-... well to be honest I don't have a bloody clue where we are right now. Where is this? Rynmere? The guys downstairs had some funny accents."

[/align]

[Aqihlih]

When Aqihlih woke up that morning, she hadn't been prepared for this shit.

It had started out a simple day like just about any other. Work had been slow and overall boring. She was still in the process of saving up enough money to build an actual shop for herself. Preferably somewhere with a basement so she could hopefully get into her experimenting. She'd gotten a few jobs, simple things from colds to cases of flu that were par for the course during Zi'da. Nothing out of the ordinary was usually an okay though. Nothing out of the ordinary usually implied nothing bad was going to happen either, and the young Yludih could keep trucking along, making the slow but steady progress towards finally getting herself into a more comfortable situation. Given that she was making good progress, she was okay with it being a normal day! She was in no way, shape, or form ready for what was about to happen.

When the ale arrived her first thought had been that it was rather odd. Yes, her form as Laurel was rather pretty. That, however, was no reason for free ale. She was proud to say that she at least thought herself good at judging the danger of a situation, and the second the ale hit the table she felt her crystals freeze, her eyes landing on the small slip of paper. Her orbs ran a full gambit of colors, going from a blue-grey to a blistering red all the way to a cautious and distrusting violet. The words the rang around her head for a moment as she tried to think on how best to deal with this. The first question in her mind came down to the how. There was nothing she was more cautious about than when it came to changing her forms. She was more careless about murder than she was about changing! The young woman grit her teeth for a moment. The expression, so much closer to her true feelings, looked foreign on the face of Laurel. Laurel was all smiles and laughter and kind words.

The scowl was gone almost in an instant as a thought struck her. The how quickly led to a couple options, and then the Yludih became intrigued. Her mind also started to linger on the way. What was the point of dragging her into whatever these people seemed to be planning? If they were at all familiar with the crystal behind the woman then it was likely something to do with crimes or the intention of committing one. If these people had any intention of harassing or attacking her for her race, then they would have simply announced it to the tavern. This was blackmail. That meant that even though these strangers had the upper hand, Aqihlih was still holding a couple of the cards.

This could be good, there were things to learn from this encounter. And perhaps, if she played the cards she had in her hand properly, allies to be made. They why still bounced around the inside of her skull. She'd heard of magical abilities and blessings that could lead people to see someone's real self. On the other hand, there could be a truly extensive spy network she had no knowledge of. A small, dangerous, little smile creased her lips as she sat still a moment before chugging the drink. "This could work," she muttered to herself as her thoughts turned truly devious. What kind of crime lord to be was she if she couldn't roll with a single punch?

Lazily, Aqihlih stood up and approached not long after Tio made his way over. She watched him quietly, trying to decide how to treat this situation before jumping into it herself. "Long time no see," she greeted Graeslin with a brilliant smile. Her eyes twinkled as she spoke, a lightness to her voice. It was easy enough to push her excitement into her actions. "It's been forever. I'm impressed you found me. Though, I wish you would have given me a chance to change before getting a hold of me," she purred before gesturing to herself, "this isn't the best for adventure." Her gaze hardened for just a moment, letting the implication hang in the air without actually straight up saying that her other form would have been better for whatever they wanted out of her. Maybe if she was lucky, they'd give her a chance to go change. If not, well, Laurel's reputation wasn't too important when it wasn't too hard to kidnap a new innocent looking girl. Maybe she could find a new face that was exceptionally pretty, name it something like Nettle or Clove.

She glanced at Tio once, trying to judge his reactions. He didn't look happy. Not in the slightest.

When the small group was led out the door and into the woods, she would look at Graeslin questioning, trying to see if she was allowed to slip away for a moment. No point in really trying to hide it, but there was no way she was going to straight up ask if she could go change her entire face. And body structure. And everything. She wasn't sure if they knew if Fox Glove was her second form, but Fox Glove was already a criminal in the making. The more bad rep she got on Fox Glove, the better. A couple rumors here or there about her second form being a face snatcher might even be good for her. She just had to be careful not to let Fox Glove get connected to Laurel.

If she wasn't given the chance to slip away and take on her criminal persona then she'd continue on just as she had been before, but perhaps just a touch more disgruntled as, again, she really didn't want the bad rep on Laurel. Honestly, this was starting to become all kinds of messy. Almost not worth it. But what other option did she have? At least if she was stuck as Laurel she could plead blackmail and maybe save a little bit of her reputation... maybe... Her acting skills weren't that good yet.

When they arrived at the meeting point she watched Tio stalk away angrily, having to force back a laugh. She herself strolled away instead, her attire looking rather unaffiliated to the pirate. She wandered about, trying to listen in on conversations and glean whatever information she could. Her pride wasn't going to get in the way of her getting a solid grasp on the situation. As she watched and listened she risked a look or two outside. She never strayed from the sight of Graeslin or one of her cronies, but she wandered and listened and on occasion try to make conversation. At one point while they were waiting she made an off-hand comment to Tio, trying to judge his reaction. "Racial blackmail, gotta love it," she'd huffed quietly with a roll of her eyes.

When the rest of the group finally arrived, Tio was the first to speak up. Apparently, he was the brave type. Aqihlih thought on his question quietly for a moment. She thought the accents were familiar, likely from one of the few times she'd gone to town as a child with her mother. Sailors, the lot of them, but from where she couldn't exactly remember. Luckily she didn't have to try and force herself to. While she'd listened to other people and tried to join in on conversation herself, she'd heard quite a few city names thrown around in various tones of voice. The one she heard the most and in the most popular light had been the name Etzos, though she'd also heard Hildreth a couple times, along with a lot of curses against the immortals. She kept her conjuncture to herself though, waiting for someone else to speak up and confirm or deny her assessment.

Through introduction time, she would remain quiet. Her demeanor would be dictated by if she'd gotten the chance to change her form or not. If she didn't then she'd stay close to Graeslin, stay quiet, and fail to actually introduce herself. If the pirate had any sense of sympathy she'd allow Aqihlih the first chance she got to slip away and change form. Hopefully, the pirate would just roll with it. If Aqihlih had gotten the chance prior, that would be a different story entirely. She would look at everyone with critical eyes and introduce herself last.

[Oberan]

There was no mistaking Oberan’s stormcloud of a face for a happy one. He scowled so hard that his brows threatened to point vertically upward, and the corners of his mouth were pulled down to stress his displeasure. He stomped through the streets of Foster’s, not moving an inch out of the way when someone blocked his path, instead bumping into them and giving them a deadly glare when they cried things like “watch where you’re going” or “look out you bloody idiot”. Sometimes he’d respond with ”I’m walking here!”, or ”You have a fucking problem, you shitty cuntface?”, but mostly he just kept walking, pushing past anyone in his path.

Fire raged inside his mind, roaring flames that hadn’t died despite many trials having passed already. Sometimes they shrunk a bit, leaving only some glowing cinders for a while. One thought of that fucking letter was enough to revive them though, fanning the flames even further.

That shitty letter was the reason he’d come all the way to Foster’s, stuffed away safely in a pocket of his coat. He had not taken it out ever since he’d set off on this trip, recalling the contents that had aggravated him clearly. The Riverbank Inn was the place to be, he remembered, and the letter had even contained directions, as if to taunt him further.

Fucking letter-senders, he’d show them! There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed, and they’d just crossed one of them. Damn right he was pissed off.

He arrived at the Inn then, not at all surprised it was something of a shoddy looking structure despite its size. Nothing too uncommon by Foster’s standards, really. No wonder they had chosen this place for their shady meeting. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary at all. And Bran could go wild if the situation called for it, and no-one would bat an eye, as rowdy was the norm.

Shenanigans weren’t though, unfortunately.

Oberan stepped into the taproom, finding it was spacious on the inside as well, with a rather large amount of patrons already inside, drinking and laughing and even jerking around in motions that he supposed were meant to suggest a dance of some sort. Now where were those assholes who’d written this letter? Upstairs? He looked around for a couple moments, spotting the staircase at the far end of the room. That was it for sure.

Before he headed there though, he stopped at the bar, ordering three mugs of beer. The bartender eyed the Mortalborn’s shabby clothes for a moment, then asked: ”You’ve got coin?” He didn’t seem to fancy the odds.
”I’m with the foo—folks upstairs,” Oberan responded, biting his tongue. ”They’re buying. Put it on their tab.”

For a moment the man just stared, and Oberan made peace with the fact that he’d not be getting free drinks tonight, but then the barkeep just shrugged and placed three mugs on the counter. The Mortalborn nodded contently, downed two of the mugs in quick succession, and drank about half of the third before he stepped away from the mahogany bar, his determined steps leading him up the stairs, where he stopped every so often to take a swig.

One of the rooms had a door which was left on a crack, and it was clear there were people in there. None of the other rooms seemed to be in use, so this had to be the one.

Oberan took a deep breath in, and kicked the door open violently, sending it to slam into the wall with a thunderous boom.

He stood for a moment, gulping down the last of his drink, then threw the mug on the floor, watching it bounce off before it clattered to a halt.

”Which one of you fucktards wrote this crappy letter?!” he roared, pushing his hand in a pocket, then strewing lots and lots of tiny snippets of what once had been an intact piece of paper around the room. He stepped inside, eyes shooting fire and brimstone, each footfall measured and predatory. His gaze shifted from one person to the next, watching everyone inside the room.

”Was it you?” he growled, pointing at a tall pirate-looking fellow with an unhappy expression on his face. ”Or you?” he spat, pointer finger jabbing in the direction of a woman looking very distinctly non-pirate-ish. He knew her kind though, they were the kind of women that purred and behaved right after you’d paid her, but when you were basking in the afterglow and they got dressed, they ran off with all you’d had on you.

”Or,” he turned to a woman in pirate garb, index aimed at her nose, ”was it you?”

The Mortalborn approached, stopping only when face to face with her, snarling angrily. ”How dare you send such a bullshit letter, you fucking bitch,” he hissed. ”No-one mocks my skill and tells me not to come.” Reverse psychology or not, he did not care. ”I don’t know what this shit’s about, and I don’t give a fuck. I’m coming along whether you like it or not.” And then they’d see whose skills were worse than those of some twelve-arc old urchin. Fucking shit pirates.

[Finnegan O'Connor]

Finn O'Connor

:: 40th Ashan, 717

On paper, the Orm’del Sea was rich with fish: tuna, salmon, eel, and all other manners of slippery creatures were said to roam the waters. On paper, the fishermen of Foster’s Landing were all hard-working, law-abiding citizens. On paper, their boats had passed the latest round of inspections with flying colors. On paper, all was right with the world.

In reality Finn figured that Ule’s boat would sink before the end of the season, which was unfortunately about as long as his employment with the grizzled fisherman still lasted. With luck, he’d be on his way back to Etzos before “The Tidebreaker” made true on its name and was shattered by the high tide. All of which assumed that Ule would have the good luck of catching an excellent haul somewhere within the next ten trials, or there simply wouldn’t be a copper worth of payment for Finn or Molly, or anyone else under Ule’s employ.

Molly had protested her employment as part-time housemaid, part-time fish cleaner and part-time net repairer in Ule’s overcrowded household, but there was little else for her to do, given her predisposition toward sea-sickness. Finn doubted he would have fared much better if not for his spark. Of all the elements, the sea was his closest and most trusted friend and it helped him keep his balance aboard The Tidebreaker as it rocked back and forth on the unsteady waters.

Ule had struck a grim pose behind the wheel, his narrow eyes set into a foul look as he gazed into the horizon. “Damned pirates…” he grumbled into his scruffy beard. Osse, Ule’s eldest son rolled his eyes at his old man before he caught Finn staring at him. “It’ll be better tomorrow,” he promised. “They’ll be gone soon. They can’t stay here forever.”

“Doubt it,” Finn muttered as he rubbed his arms. Tugging nets and ropes and sails was hard work and every morning ended with the same, burning numbness settling in his arms. “If it’s not pirates it’ll be bad weather, and if it’s not bad weather it’ll be sea monsters…”

“Father,” Osse said, “I think he’s calling us cowards.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not,” Finn said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m just saying that you always have an excuse not to go further while we all know the sea is teeming with fish not a mile from here.”

“Says the most experienced sailor aboard this ship,” Gwynen’s grating voice sounded. She was almost as tall as Osse, but only a few arcs older. Contrary to Ule and Osse, Gwynen wasn’t a pleasant person to be around, but she made for a good navigator and so her presence was tolerated.

Finn opened his mouth to offer a retort, but a stern look from Ule saw him swallow his words and sit down at the edge of the ship with a defeated sigh.

“Can’t you make them come this way?” Osse asked.

Finn shook his head. “I can feel the water, not the fish.”

"But the fish are in the water."

"It doesn't work that way."

Or perhaps it did, and he simply didn't know yet. Robin hadn't given him much instruction on how to use his newfound power. He hadn’t planned on telling his employers about his skill, but it had only taken a few trials before had been forced to use it, when The Tidebreaker had nearly been capsized in a particularly rough patch of sea. Since then he’d figured out the real reason no one aboard this rotten old ship dared to venture further. They all knew The Tidebreaker was old beyond repair and the sea was too dangerous further out. Out there, pirates would be the least of their concern.

“Talking about your imaginary friends again?” Gwynen remarked as she hauled in the last of the nest.

“They’re not imaginary-”

“Does the sea get angry with you when you piss in it?”

A small wave lapsed against the side of the boat as Finn scowled at her. She didn’t even seem to notice. Ule trusted her, but Finn was certain that it was her who’d ran her big ugly mouth and informed this Graeslin of his ability. It wouldn’t be so bad if Graeslin hadn’t also figured out that the mere threat of revealing this information to Zipper was so utterly terrifying to him that he’d follow the instructions in her letter without question.

--

A bell later Finn, still winded, arrived in the Riverbank Inn at the other side of town. He’d seen the establishment a few times before in passing, but never paid it much mind. Given the modest and rough exterior, Finn had little trouble imagine what kind of guests were drinking their misery away inside. With a creak the beaten-up front door swung open and he was greeted by the sight of a few leathery faces amid a blueish cloud of thick smoke.
He only needed to sweep his gaze across the room once before he noticed the bulwark that was Mr. Brigg. A single motion of his frightfully large hands indicated that he was supposed to follow him up a flight of stairs, and Finn had no intention of disobeying such an uncommonly large man.

Above, a skeleton crew of buccaneers awaited him, though at least a few of those in attendance didn’t seem entirely at ease, and he wondered if they too had fallen victim to some forceful invitation. There was a Biqaj girl among them, upon whom his eyes lingered perhaps a little too long before he snapped out of staring at her.

He wasn’t given the freedom of choosing a spot at the table and his prime choice, the seat furthest removed from the unsavory types surrounding it, was already occupied. Instead, Mr. Brigg pulled back a chair and put Finn down in it with as much grace as could be expected from an oversized first mate. A few trills later a mug was pressed into his hands and a single, dark look from Brigg implied that he’d better gulp the substance down fast, to which he happily obliged.

It wasn’t until he’d swallowed the last of the bitter substance that he really got a good look at the people in the room. At least he would have if the peace hadn’t been so violently disturbed.

The first warning was that of a slamming door, the second was that of angry footsteps up the stairs. The man was of average height, but his face was red with anger and spittle clung to his beard as he fumed, apparently thinking the clouds of smoke that lingered in the Riverbank Inn weren’t quite suffocating enough on their own. Two things became immediately clear however. First, Finn realized he wasn’t the only one to have received a letter, and secondly, there was someone in Idalos who could match Zipper in raging intensity. He hadn’t considered it possible.

He’d retreated as far as he could without really leaving his spot at the table when he realized just what the very angry man was implying, and Finn arched an eyebrow at the conclusion. Suddenly the bearded fellow wasn’t so frightening anymore. “You came here because someone insulted your pride?” His face couldn’t decide whether to laugh or look surprised, and in the end settled on a strange mixture between both. Just how touchy was this man’s self-esteem if he had indeed come all this way because of an insult to his supposed skills? One more thing was certain, the man was rather talented at being angry.

At some point the situation relaxed again and Finn spent most of the waiting time twiddling his thumbs and staring at his feet while the other guests filled the remaining chairs one by one. Brigg, being a rather attentive fellow, eventually tasked him with fetching another pitcher of ale from downstairs, and it must’ve been at this point (while he followed the bartender into the kitchen) that Zipper entered the establishment. After all, when he returned with the dark drink, her usual ugly scowl was unmistakably present at the table while one of the other guests spoke and introduced himself as Tio. His heart sank to his stomach, then to his feet, and then dropped a few more miles into the earth as he edged closer to his spot at the table and put the pitcher down. He hoped against hope that she wouldn’t notice him as he slipped back into his chair and kept his head down. Unfortunately, the meathead Tio had decided it was a good idea to have proper introductions and when a dreadful silence denoted his turn, he looked up, met his sister’s gaze, and muttered “Finnegan.”

OOC note: I tried not to make too many assumptions, but for the sake of acknowledging all posts before mine, I had to. I am of course willing to edit if something is awry in some of the assumptions I made. Tio, I hope someone else will answer your question where they are. I couldn’t work it into my post or it started to feel like I was doing too much, if that makes sense.

[Zip]

(Did a two-parter with Toan)

Riverbank Inn.

New locale, old enemies.

A lot of old enemies. A few new ones too. Maybe.

As Zipper walked through the door, the usual black scowl on her face, she encountered the first in a string of people she never, ever wanted to meet again - save to plant their heads on a thorned spike, of course.

“You’re here too?” A voice cracked from the corner as somebody stepped from the shadows in the corner next to the door.

“Come again?” Zipper said, not even deigning to look at him. “I couldn’t hear you over the drip of your sleaze, Toan.”

Toan was everything that made the two-bit criminal a two-bit criminal: irresponsible, addicted to a list of drugs and miscellaneous substances she wasn’t particularly interested in keep track and, worse of all, alive. They had done business once in the past together… and it stayed once in the past together because, like all junkies, he was such an unpredictable, unreliable mess of a human being who couldn’t be trusted to tie his shoes without getting his fingers entangled in the knot.

He had his uses, she admitted. He had his ear to the gutter where the depraved did their business, but it just wasn’t worth all the hassle he brought with him.

“Ouch,” The thief mocked with a feigned whimper, as if her inner thoughts were privy to him too. “so much for old times love. Here I thought we’d get to patch things up.”

“Which is more than you’ve ever thought in your life,” she shot back, finally turning to look at the junkie with a dark glare. “What are you doing outside Sunnyslope? Didn’t think you could walk in daylight without a magic ring.”

“Ironic isn’t it.” He jeered with a cross of his arms. “Believe it or not daylight’s not my worst enemy, although it can be a real pain in the ass most trials. Oddly enough… what’s brought you here Zip? I don’t recall you poking around here often unless it was preferable business.”

“Looking for a whore. You don’t get paid for the complete fuck that is your life, so you don't qualify. You?”

His eyebrows rose a little. “A little fun maybe. I’d say you found what you were looking for, that is if I didn’t know you had other business in mind.” The thief then proceeded to grin almost in a cocky fashion, his eyes still on Zip as he approached her casually.

“And what then did your letter say?” Zip rebutted with a smile that looked more like it belonged to something that hunted schools of fish in the deep sea. “You have your birds, I have mine.”

“True that,” He remarked with a dip of his fingers into his pocket, “Turns out a few of my stunts last season caught a bit of attention. Somebody’s got dirt on me I need covered, hence why I’m here to see that be the case.” As he said this he pulled out his note, a parchment with few words that held a bigger meaning; ‘We know.’ Below that had been the instruction to arrive here, at the inn specified for them to meet but nothing else. “Seems we’re wanted for something, no?”

“Which might be the first time someone who wasn’t your mother felt that way towards you.”

“Yes well, it’s a good thing I never really knew the cunt now isn’t it.” He snickered with the letter tucked back within his pocket.

“Congratulations on being wanted for the first time then.”

“Should we go inside together or should I give you a headstart? I’m liable to count to five but any higher and I might just give up.” The thief mused to her with a grin.

She shrugged and made her way up the stairs, with or without him. He watched her go for a few trills before he followed behind her with a few ignored jests. As expected of a junkie criminal, he was being blackmailed because he had no discretion, no professionalism, no framework or basic organization to support a thriving business model.

She on the other hand…

She was being blackmailed because of the dumbest thing in the world: family.

As someone in her particular position, she had been threatened before, coerced before, attacked before, any number of things before. That was fair play. That was a thing she expected to happen. That was part of the game.

But using Finn as leverage was a godforsaken first.

And she was very determined to make it the last.

[Toan]

And just like that he’d found himself in at least decent company, compared to the rabble he’d arrived to find earlier. Admittedly his business here wasn’t due to the obvious this time, but rather the inexplicable behavior he’d demonstrated last season. Vhalar definitely proved to be interesting if not unnerving for the majority of its span, what with the fact he’d not only disgraced a member of the Black Guard; but literally posed as one just to steal a few trinkets also.

That was obviously what they meant behind the words ‘We know’ when he read the letter. A season spent keeping to the shadows, and just when things seemed to clear up this happens. He didn’t quite have the luxury of meeting everyone else earlier, as he’d been too caught up in his own diversion to really worry about that. It wasn’t until the familiar face of Zip had entered that he’d found himself more intrigued with the situation, given the circumstances that she’d been brought here also. What did that mean for her though? What sort of reason did she have to come here? Was this in relation to another here also?

Was the appearance of one Black Guard after he had destroyed another so recently a mere coincidence?

He had to speculate on that for now, as he followed her with ease in mind partially.

Upon the entry of the room their little meeting was to occur he watched Zip enter first, and proceeded to follow as they went into a rather large complex. Rather a duplex actually, as it appeared to be two rooms combined into one. Within the room itself appeared to be furniture for lounging, which may not have been as lavish as Toan imagined; but still comfy to sit on from the looks of it.

And then there were the people:

A blonde man leaning forward on his seat.

A woman who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but here.

An agitated man that he could tell Zipper was trying -and mostly failing- very hard not to glare at. If he knew her -and he did know her- it must have been killing her not to say anything.

A huge specimen of a man that was more mountain than human being.

A lady that looked like a pirate straight out of the stories

And from behind them shuffled in a little boy of no more than 13 arcs.

Zipper wasn’t even trying not to stare at this one. Her eyes tracked him all the way back to his seat, while he did his very best to avoid hers. It then became apparent her reasons for being here, those reasons being tied if not connected to that specific little boy as far as he could tell. At first he narrowed his eyes with intrigue but then he grinned, a cushioned chair claimed as his seat while he watched the rest of the crew. With a leg threw over one of the arms, he sat rather lopsided within the seat he claimed; almost as if he were already a king in his comfy throne. Zipper, typical as always, didn’t bother with a seat, standing opposite and facing the little boy. They seemed to be having an incredibly vivid conversations with their facial expressions.

[Maltruism]

[img]/gallery/image ... e_id=12675[/img]

The Riverbank Inn, Foster's Landing, Zi'da 40, arc 717

Brigg, the second mate, who could put a Gorn to shame for sheer strength, grunted and rose with surprising agility to his feet, the flooring planks creaking in response to any adjustment in how his massive frame shifted. The furniture rattled beneath the backsides of those sitting as he stomped with slow, deadly deliberation towards Oberan, his face a storm of anger. Graeslin merely lifted a casual finger and the big man stopped with a snort like an Ivorian Auroch.

The wiry woman turned casually to let her gaze fall on all her current crewmen. Her look indicated no offense at the words Oberan had uttered. She'd heard much worse in her time at sea. Many such curses coming in gasps through the bloody froth forming at the lips of dying men. Her look was blank on the surface, but there was a deep spark that suggested that Oberan would join the ranks of such men if he continued. She was not actually a small woman, her eyes nearly on equal level with his, but Brigg made her look tiny.

"Are you finished?" she said, pausing to allow an answer. There was the briefest of moments where something warned her that the mortalborn before her was thinking of activating some mischief. Her face twitched with lethal intensity, as her gaze locked his. "Try it, and you are finished." she hissed, the tone low, demanding a concession of focus to hear it clearly. Ticks passed with a frozen tableau of murderous glares. The pirate took a breath and motioned Oberan to a seat behind him. "That is what I want you for. But...not...here. Now have a seat and we will get underway."

She waited while the other newcomers settled their petty beefs with the situation and each other. As they groused, she lifted the monocle casually, confirming the Yludih presences among those gathered; the two "invitees" and the one among her unjailed crewmen. She looked a silent question at him now, and he slipped a narrowed gaze at Toan before returning a subtle nod to her.

She gave a half nod back and then knocked her now-empty mug on the table in front of her. "If your ongoing grudges are more important to you than having a share of a treasure, then by all means, continue to waste our time with your bitching. When we leave to retrieve it, you will be left behind, hanging from the ceiling by those wagging tongues." It seemed as if a five pound sledge and a seven inch pike appeared magically in Brigg's hand for emphasis. The spread of his grin matched the rapid decrease in collateral noise.

"I sincerely hope that your motivation is the thought of treasure, and not the fear of harm, because there is a very real chance of harm where we are going. But you all possess talents specific to our collective agenda, and calculated to reduce this same chance of harm. Are we good so far?" The six sets of visiting eyes were unanimous in their trajectory, some bothering to nod, some still retaining resentment of their forced presence. Graeslin showed as much concern for these hard feelings as she did to the three-arc-old chip in the leg of the unused chair sitting in the corner.

"As you surely know," she began, finally adapting a tone that indicated that she did not expect any further interruptions, "...Foster's Landing has a policy of amnesty toward pirates that do not bring trouble to her streets, regardless of what trouble they may have caused elsewhere. As a result, many such crews have enjoyed their stay here, but have been careful to keep their coffers hidden away. I too have not been such a fool as to bring the fullness of my amassed wealth here into town."

Her gaze narrowed with residual anger over the detail she was about to impart, "For some reason, Etzos, by way of Foster's Landing, decided to withhold this amnesty from my crew. By that, I mean they were arrested here, and transported there, where they have been locked out of sight beneath the Black Guard Tower. Of course, they are no doubt being put to the question, probably as we speak, in hopes of flaying the information regarding the location of my treasure."

Her gaze had wandered as she spoke this last bit. But it returned now to move from face to face. "I trust it does not strike you as unlikely that there's a very good reason why Etzos would be so interested in MY treasure that they would do this, while leaving all these other crews' coffers alone." She reached back grinning, to grip Brigg's backside intimately, "Yes...like my big boy here, my treasure is much bigger."

She did not wait for the question, "How much bigger, you ask? I won't tell you that exactly, but your complete commitment to this job will gain you each ten thousand in gold, with an additional individual "bounty" of two thousand for each interrogating Black Guard bastard you find need to kill in the process." The grin on her face turned from a horny sneer to a muscle-straining grimace of anticipated blood lust. It softened into a mere scowl as her eyes found Zipper, "Is that going to be a problem for you?"

If Zipper had any answer requiring a response, she would do so. Otherwise, she took a pause, asking if any of those gathered had questions. Some would surely be addressed by the rest of what she had to say, but it would be best to get any misunderstandings of what she had already gone over out of the way before pressing on.

[Tio Silver]

One by one an assortment of vagabonds of all shapes, sizes and professions entered the meeting room, each bringing with them their own distinct vibe and, according to Graeslin, their own unique talents and skill sets. If they'd been spotted and invited to this meeting then Tio had no doubt that they were all people who'd proven themselves as crooks at some point before, but what concerned him was that all their different personality quirks and preferred tactics may not mesh together very well. A lion and an elephant where both dangerous animals after all, but put them in the same cage and you were bound to get trouble. Could this mismatched team function as a unit? Only time would tell.

First of all was the woman who'd come from Scalvoris along with him, the other yludih in the group. Despite the poor circumstances of their first meeting Tio was actually quite glad to find another of his kind that resided on Scalvoris; after all the problem with having such elaborate natural illusions was that even the yludih themselves couldn't tell their own kind apart from the crowd, which could sometimes make them feel like the only members of their race around. But the question remained of which skills, besides her natural shapeshifting, had Graeslin selected her for? The fact that she felt the need to change her form suggested that they were the dangerous kinds of skills people wouldn't want to be known for, so perhaps she was an assassin of some kind?

Secondly came a face that Tio was surprised to find he actually recognised, though it took him a while to place where it was he'd seen him before. It was a boy in his early teenage years, with scruffy clothing and a mop of dark brown hair who introduced himself as Finnegan. It gradually dawned on him that this boy had been one of the competitors in the strange orb game he'd played on Delroth's behalf, the kid who'd been possessed by the mind of some weird old man. That had been a strange day, and one that Tio would quite honestly be fine forgetting. Still Finnegan didn't seem to be walking around or speaking in the strange manner he had during the contest, which led Tio to assume he was no longer being possessed. If so then it was a fair bet that he didn't remember him.

Next came a ragged looking man who kicked the door open and immediately started swearing like a sailor to everyone in the room, and who Tio was amused to hear had chosen to come along purely because his pride at having his skills insulted had demanded it. Now that was perhaps the most interesting reason he'd ever heard for joining a heist crew; not for the money or infamy, but essentially because a complete stranger dared you to. Tio had no idea who the dirty guy was, but he had to admit he'd taken an instant liking to him, mainly because he seemed interesting. A wild card for sure, but there was nothing like a spot of crazy to make a job entertaining.

And last of all came two people who you'd have to be blind, deaf and stone dead to not notice the tension between. One was an athletic looking woman with an incredibly neat appearance and a scowl that reminded him of a jaguar before it pounced on its prey, and the other a man of a similar build dressed in more comfortable clothes who seemed far more laid back, not to mention more than a little smug. What was with these two? Were they an ex-couple or something? No, they seemed too interested in each other for that. More likely they just hated each other and needed to sleep together to get it out of their systems. Well as long as their squabbling didn't affect the job Tio didn't care what they did in their free time.

Finally Graeslin called for silence and took charge, explaining in detail her reason for gathering them all here. When she started mentioning treasure and the ten thousand gold nel reward for completing the mission an excited grin grew across Tio's face, washing away all trace of his previous resentment. He didn't like being blackmailed, that was obvious, but for that amount of gold he could certainly forget his grievances for a while; after all nothing soothed the nerves quite like a nice big pile of treasure did.

When she asked if there were any questions so far, Tio gave her a little wave to get her attention. "To have amassed such a large treasure I'm guessing you must have a fairly big crew right? How many of your crew were captured exactly? And realistically speaking how many do you expect we'll find still alive when the time comes to bust them out?"

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[Maltruism]

Oh hey folks.

It has been brought to my attention that I didn't state that I am NOT concerned over strict posting order.
This is a very loose meeting and it's not unlikely that some folks may sit quietly for the whole thing, or be inclined to be brash, mouthy, and interrupt people.

Still, we want our post counts. That is the main reason I will be allowing time for everyone to post.
But if several days pass and I only get a few, I will press on.
It was a week between my first two, so I will shoot for maintaining that schedule.
It's fair to add that four days have passed and only Tio has posted....
If you see the seventh day coming and really want to post, but have RL intrusions on your ST time, let me know.

Edit: I had "did", not "didn't" in that top line originally...Just about the worst typo you can make.