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Thread: Black Wings

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  1. #1
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    Black Wings

    Nevin sighed as he was slowly shepherded out of another business. This place was, while not openly hostile to him, definitely not openly welcoming to strangers. Which, considering what he had been told about the city and its origins, he couldn't say he was exactly surprised about. Still, at least basic businesses would still sell to him - general goods stores hadn't thrown him out at least, so he could purchase staple goods to carry him over. That wasn't why he was here though - he wasn't here to set up a shop in this city, not yet - though looking at some of the people he could see that they needed more help than they were receiving, so maybe that wasn't too out there of a thought. No, he was here for an entirely different reason, and for him, a bit of an odd one - he was here on personal business.

    The redhead was here looking for his first real friend, the Kenku Stare. She had told him that she lived here, in Beinost, with her asshole of a Master, but Nevin had lost the paper with her address - in reality it had gotten destroyed by a potion a child knocked over one day before Nevin thought to copy the information down. And after their encounter with the things living in the castle, and being captured by those damnable bounty hunters, he had gotten caught up and continually forgot about traveling to the Red Forest, Lindequalme. But, he had remembered, and remembered that she had wanted to accompany him there, likely because she thought he'd wind up dead if he went alone. Nevin had a bit more self-confidence these days and doubted he would die from exploring the place, but he would greatly relish the opportunity of spending some time with her.

    So he was here, in her city, and trying to find her. His hope was, that the avian race was rare enough in these parts that asking about her would lead him to her. First though, he had to find a shopkeeper who wouldn't throw him out just for not being a native. He sighed, and walked into another alchemy shop - planning on using the fact that he could talk about their work together would give him an opening to help him find out where his friend was.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  2. #2
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    It was Thursday afternoon, which meant the day for the Fine City Tailors - Vitruvion's gentlemen and ladies' outfitting centre; preparing the newest fashions with the grandest fabrics from the farthest places. For purely private customers only Fine City Tailors was arranged in communication with the god's own material shop, the Fabric Emporium, and also his rich merchant trade, so that any desire in terms of silks, cottons or chifons could easily be granted. Any colour, any style, so long as it was made, was offered to the customer, for they were the highest priority.

    To buy an item of clothing from the Fine City Tailors one had to make an appointment with one of the five personal stylists, and you were given your own private fitting room. Champagne and exquisite treats were also a complimentary bonus during one's experience. The sitting room out front was merely a waiting space, where one can make appointments with the beautiful elf cleric at the desk and discuss more menial things with friends. The shop was simplex, elegant, well laid out, and had in the past four months become the most popular place to get one's clothing made for high society, in the whole of Beinost.

    Due to no minor thanks to the kenku who sat in the back office, sighing at the manager.

    "Lady Stare, I understand the chaos of needing to move, but we simply cannot go on like this anymore. We have far too many clients, and have to turn them down daily! Either we need to open longer, or move to larger premises and hire more staff, but I cannot disappoint anymore customers!"

    Dressed in her neatest teal, vulcona-wool tunic, which was embroidered with thread dyed with colour made from semi-precious stones and sewn with various glass beads, Stare faced the dumpling of an elf. Markqui de la Rossi, a wood elf from the north, was a good man with an excellent brain for numbers. Fantastic with customers and able to build good rapport with them he had been one of the greatest successes Stare had made since taking over the superior management of Vitruvion's legal projects. However, through his high skill and her quality of work they had managed to make the Fine City Tailors far too popular now, to the extent that they were beginning to show signs of strain.

    "Mr Markqui," she stressed, "I know the need as much as you do, I know what stress this establishment is under, but there is no better place currently than this. We are located directly on the high street, right across from the council chambers. Mages of Istien and generals of the army daily walk past. There is no better location, nothing on the market - and believe me I have looked. To move would be madness!"

    "And my other suggestion - to open a secondary store?" the fat, but kindly man in a fine robe raised a brow, "Is that so mad also?"

    "There is no other place that would satisfy!" Stare shook her head, completely at a loss. "Nowhere as fine, as great. To open another store in another less favourable place would be to tarnish the reputation of this one. Of course, if you want to extend hours - you have my permission, but all of the stores along this street are entirely booked and bought. We cannot move the entire store, and until we find a suitable location, we cannot open another!"

    "What about rennovation, my lady?" he placed a hand on the desk between them, "Organise the space more efficiently, place in a sixth fitting room?"

    "What, and have the entire store need to close down for a week or so to be able to fit the new one?" she almost laughed, raising her massive brow, all glossy with prestine feathers. "I thought you hated to disappoint your customers?"

    Markqui groaned as she used his own words and rubbed at his face. "It is just becoming impossible, Lady Stare, honestly. I do not know what to do."

    "Well, all I can offer is to have Mer try to find more locations," Stare said, speaking of her new apprentice, whom she and Vitruvion had rescued from Bounty Hunters. She raised a clawed hand, clean and neatly clipped. "It is the best we can do for now. You are just going to have to keep with the numbers and extend hours. If you want to do so, then come up with a viable plan and submit it to me next week?"
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  3. #3
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    "You're looking for the bird brat, arent'cha?" Nevin paused in his steps. The alchemist had been politely asked to leave two more shops after his last attempt at entering an herbalist's shop. They wanted to deal with his business, and nothing more - a situation that was rapidly becoming infuriating. So he had decided to take a break, and was sitting outside at a food stall, chewing on some kind of meat sandwich. The man who had spoken was the storekeep - and he looked like a very rough and worn man, who had seen far more of life than his age should have let him. In other words, a normal man living in a difficult city. I raised an eyebrow at the man - I had mentioned that I was looking for someone a couple of times, but only gotten to ask one employee about Stare before the manager forced me out of the store. "Don't go looking at me with those suspicious eyes, man. Word travels fast when a stranger comes to town. We have to let each other in on when someone's a threat. But you, you're just looking for someone else. We get a few like you who come through, looking for people who've run away. Look, friend, let me tell you this now. You should stop looking for her."

    Nevin stood up, his food dropping to the ground as he stared at the man. "I - yes, I am but why in the name of -" He could scarcely believe it. The first person who had spoken to him for more than a few moments about something that wasn't 'Hey, you want this?' and the bastard was telling him to give up his search? Something of his anger and disbelief must have shown on his face, because the food vendor held up his hands placatingly.

    "Look, friend, I'm just trying to help you out. That bird, she's the servant of a dangerous man. I'm just trying to keep you from getting involved with him - you seem like a nice enough guy, but he's not someone you want to cross." Nevin took a step back, his eyes wide. The man knew of - that made sense. From what she had told him, Vitruvion was in control of a large portion of the city after all. Still, that wasn't going to deter him. If for no other reason, Nevin was already well and truly in deep with Stare, and thus with Vitruvion. He sighed and shook his head.

    "Your concern is appreciated, but unfortunately I'm already known to that man." The vendor's skin went pale. "I'm a colleague of Stare's from Corone. I was told she was here, but the information was taken from me." The vendor cursed under his breath for a moment before thinking. Finally he sighed.

    "It's Thursday. The Lady will be working at Rossi's today, at least for part of the day. You should be able to find her there, or if not, you'll get directions on where to find her properly. I'm....sorry, for what it's worth." The man's concern was touching, but unnecessary for Nevin. The Alchemist got directions to this 'Rossi's' store, and began making his way there.

    ---

    "Hello, pardon me miss." The woman at the desk gave Nevin a full body check, looking the man up and down several times before shaking her head dismissively.

    "I'm sorry, but Mr. de la Rossi isn't available to take new customers for a few days. In the mean time I'd suggest sticking with one or two colors, not going for a mash like you've got. The black and crimson work well on your frame and with your hair, stick with those. I'll take your name down and you'll have to come back when he has time to see you." Nevin blinked and looked down at his body, trying to figure out what she was talking about. His clothes were comfortable and suited him, he thought. Then he realized the mistake in communication, and shook his head.

    "No no, that's not what I'm here for -"

    "Really? That's a shame, it really looks like you need an update to your wardrobe. Then you've come to the wrong place sir, good day." The woman cut him off, and Nevin felt one eyebrow twitch angrily. Being dismissed like this was quite infuriating, he found.

    "Madam. I am a friend of Stare's, and was told I might find her here. Now, can you help me, or am I going to have to raise a ruckus to get your management out here?" His tone was as frosty as the anger churning his blood. The receptionist looked up, her eyes wide, and she stared at him for a moment. As he started to open his mouth again, her eyes flicked down to the whip on his waist and she froze, before paling further than the vendor earlier had.

    "Oh Thaynes. Uh - I'll go see if she's in right now sir, please wait here!" The woman scrambled up from her desk and into the shop, leaving Nevin standing there in the lobby, his shoulders rising and falling slowly as he forced his anger down. It wasn't her fault that... no, wait, it was entirely her fault that she treated him like that. Even if this place was absurdly busy..... bah. He stalked over to one of the chairs and sat down to wait.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  4. #4
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Markqui grumbled but finally nodded. "Fine. Next week. But please consider the transferrance."

    Stare let the stress come to her eyes, but remained straight backed and professional. "Thank you, Mr de la Rossi," she began to say, "As long as-"

    "Lady Stare!"

    Both pudgy elf and sleek kenku turned. A small, brown-haired face appeared in the doorway, which belonged to the receptionist of the store. She paused and gave an apologetic smile before announcing:

    "My lady, there is a ... Man in the front, asking after you. He says he knows you?"

    Stare caught Markqui's glance over to her, and she herself shook her head. "I have not arranged for anyone to come here," she blinked as she looked back to the receptionist. "Julie, did the man say what he wanted?"

    "Nothing in particular, my lady. He says he knows you. I can ask him to come back later?"

    With a pause, Stare shook her head. "No we are done here I think. Yes?"

    Mr de la Rossi was caught for a moment, but then he shrugged, in a casual manner, unsuitable for the occasion. His lips pursed and he began to stand, "So long as you consider my proposal."

    "I have given you the reasons for and against," Stare simply replied, also getting to her feet. "As I said write up your idea for longer hours and I or Mer will be over next week to discuss it."

    "Hmm," the elf grunted and he began to walk.

    Stare bit back several lines of retort as he led her out from behind the offices and into the reception. Directly in front of her she did not see who waited for her, even as Julie sat down. Tight beaked and determined, she kept up all appearances of being professional, simply expecting this visitor to be a business client of some sort. Yes, it was odd they new her schedule, but then it was not secret knowledge. Some small questions would lead them to the Fine City Tailors on a Thursday afternoon where Beinost's only kenku and steward of Sir Elssmith would be found.

    "Very well," Markqui turned around as they got to the desk, "I agree to your terms."

    And then he moved to the side. And Stare saw her visitor. Red hair, crimson tunic, rough look, very out of sorts for the glory that was the council District for Beinost. Her beak parted as, for a moment, she was entirely stunned. It took her three honest seconds to actually compute that after all this time Nevin was in her city.

    "Ahem? My lady?"

    A proferred hand before her. Stare had to tear her eyes away from the seemingly cautious friend seated awkwardly on one of the grand armchairs. Quickly she slipped her hand into Markqui's and shook briefly, though careful not to harm him with her claws.

    "Yes, of course Mr Markqui. To next week."

    "Next week," the fat elf said, glancing to Nevin, but he said nothing more. Instead he turned away and headed back inside.

    Leaving Stare with Julie and Nevin. The receptionist was watching with upraised brows, curious as to this visitor.

    Damn fucking decorum, Stare cursed, trying to keep herself calm.

    Gently and properly she strode over before inclining a head at Nevin. "Mr Nevin," she said formally, dressed in all her finery, "What a pleasure to see you again, sir. Shall we get tea at Borkins?"

    She let the sparkle of happiness come to her eye though and waited for his reply. Eager to be out of this place now and to say a proper hello to her dear friend.
    Last edited by Philomel; 12-06-2017 at 03:37 PM.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  5. #5
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    The people coming and going from this shop were definitely of a different level of quality from the ones he'd been going into before. Or at least, they were dressed in an entirely different manner. The stores he'd been visiting before had been working places, where the employees and customers wore clothes that could take a beating and keep going. His own clothes were similar to that, rough and tough, just of higher quality materials, discounting his chest piece - which currently was stored in his bag. No need to wear that in town - even if it was the only ornately designed article of clothing he had. Perhaps he should have worn it?

    The customers and staff here though, and the people on the street, were richly dressed, clad in ornate finery and formal attire. Even the receptionist's clothing looked better cut than his, and he could understand why she had thought he was here for a new outfit. Perhaps he would have to dip into his savings and get a more formal set of clothes?

    The receptionist had informed him from a distance, that 'Lady Stare' was on her way here, and that he just needed to wait. So Nevin kept on his seat, awkwardly shifting as he felt time pass. He felt more than saw someone come I and stare at him, so he turned to look - only to see an Elf giving him a disdainful once over, obviously dismissing him as unimportant. It ranked, and Nevin decided then that he would have to get a set of formal attire if he ever intended on coming back here.

    Then the man stepped to one side and turned around, sticking his hand out towards the person behind him. And Nevin was treated to the sight of Stare staring at him, her beak slightly agape. He had to stifle a warm chuckle, and quench the warmth in his stomach, at the fact that she didn't even seem to realize at first that the Elf was trying to shake her hand, until he cleared his throat and said her name.

    A hand shake, and a promise to return later, and the man, Markqui, headed back into the shop proper leaving Nevin with Stare and the receptionist. The Alchemist stood up and bowed as Stare walked over to him and greeted him politely - this was, he thought, the first time he'd been called 'Sir' by the Kenku, but he got the feeling she might be trying to make the receptionist realize he was more than he seemed. However, he had an advantage that his friend didn't here - he could be impolite as they already had a less than favorable view of him here. Still, he'd maintain some level of formality to keep from dragging her down.

    So instead of what he wanted to do, he instead bored to the receptionist. "You have my gratitude for conveying my presence. Now then, let us depart." The man stepped to the door and held it open for Stare, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he kept his amusement stifled. His friend watched him for a moment with a tilt of her head before stepping outside, inclining her head to him as she moved past him.

    On the street, Nevin was able to bail a small buggy - suppressing irritation that the cab driver was more smartly dressed than he was - and helped Stare inside. She politely informed the driver of their destination, and they were off. Even now she was polite and formal, and the two kept to pleasant small talk that was empty words for the time being.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  6. #6
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    To Borkins please," she said, as she climbed into the carriage. Then she moved to sit opposite Nevin, her posture awkward but still baring the decorum of the afternoon's duties. With her hands clasped on her lap she looked at him for a short while before breathing in slow and straightening her back.

    "It is pleasant to see you again," she spoke quietly. "Welcome to Beinost. Your journey was good?"


    “It was decent enough. The ship was a bit cramped though, a freight ship that I managed to snag accommodation upon. They were the only ones coming this way in anything like an acceptable time frame.”

    Stare blinked a couple of times and then inclined her beak. “The freight trading vessels are the most regular. We are a harbour city after all.” Taking a pause she felt the urge to go and grab this human by the arms and drag him into a hug. But how he had come back into her life, how he was here and catching her in these clothes, in this part of the city … Stare hardly knew how to react in a way that was not proper.

    “I uh … I am glad your journey was pleasant. The weather here has been disastrous.” And now she was talking to him about the frigging weather. “You are well?”

    She looked utterly confused, Nevin thought. At a loss for words, which he found adorable. It seems that his arrival here had completely thrown her off of her balance, and it didn't help that she had to remain prim and proper. He grinned widely as she stared down at her hands for a moment.

    “The weather was abysmal on the sea. I realize now why I detested the idea of going to Radasanth in the first place - I do not do well on ships. Had to dose myself to the brim. I'm recovering from that actually. So, dear, you work as manager for a couple shops it seems? Are they all as…. Posh as that one?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, propping his chin upon his clasped hands. This brought the fact that he wasn't wearing gloves into clear view.

    In that moment Stare was utterly thankful that she was a kenku. For feathers covered up the chagrin that she felt rising to her face as her cheeks went hot. Suddenly he was closer and she was caught off guard with his questions of what she did.

    “What? I'm general manager for all of the stores of Sir Elssmith. The Fine City Tailors, the Bakery and the Fabric Emporium. As well as a couple of others, including the house itself.” She paused, trying to keep up appearances. One never knew who they passed by, who might see the kenku of Beinost from outside. “I'm his steward, that is my official title here. In the city. I …” she paused and looked out as they rounded a corner. Raising a hand she pointed to a vast long building appearing in the distance with a single tall chimney. “That's the bakery. We have had good profits this year.”

    It took her a moment to respond, a second of hesitation that made Nevin tilt his head to one side and grin. He wasn't used to his friend being hesitant about something - even when they had been prisoners, her actions had been sure and swift. He unfolded his index fingers and tapped them against his lips as his eyes followed her gesture.

    “Profits tend to be useful. I've managed to squirrel away a tidy sum for myself - Oh. I don't remember if I told you, but I did get a second shop opened up. I travel between Stonevale and Radasanth now, and Ezra is usually the one selling in Stonevale. Sometime soon I'll hopefully have her learning enough to make simple potions. So. A tailor, a bakery, I know of the brewery. You're a woman of many talents, on top of your personal ones.” A talented and vicious fighter, with unique magical abilities. He was extremely thankful that he had decided top open up to her that night when she saw…. Well, what she saw.

    She shrugged a little. “I had to learn the skills for my official position here. I know the bakery business well anyway, so all I had to do was transfer those skills to a wider base. Each store has its own manager, I just govern the over-”

    The carriage suddenly jolted to a halt. Caught off guard Stare stopped mid word. Looking out she saw the elegant front of a proud tea house with the notice of “Borkins” plastered in bold lettering. A verandah stood on the street front with small table and chair sets also taking up room.

    “Ah,” Stare nodded and opened the door.

    With a glance back to Nevin she gestured for him to follow her. She waited for him to get out, passing an undisclosed amount up to the driver. Once the human had joined her she continued wordlessly inside, going into a very fine tea house decorated in light flowery wallpaper. Taking a sharp right she led Nevin over to a small booth, with its own door.

    It was only there that she paused, then sat.

    And visibly relaxed.

    “Right,” she said. “Now we can talk easier.”

    Nevin closed the door firmly behind him after he had stepped inside. He could see the way she relaxed, the stiffness to her posture melting away as his friend sank down onto the cushion. He let her breathe for a few moments before moving over to stand beside the table. He leaned his hip against it as he chuckled and shook his head.

    “Quite the reversal of your role, isn't it? Out there you're whatever you want to be, or what he needs you to be, but here, here you have to wear those clothes and don that mask of propriety. Come here then.” Nevin straightened up and stepped back slightly, and opened his arms in an invitation. It was a drastic change from how he used to be he thought - and not one that he had had much chance to inform her of last time they met. Truth be told he had been jealous when Hyperion hugged Stare, not that he would very admit it to anyone. But now, he was far more comfortable with contact.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  7. #7
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Surprise flittered across the kenku's eyes but she saw the closed door. A memory of her own from the last time they met came across her mind, of Vitruvion telling her to get over her aversion to physical contact. Yes, she had hugged Nevin before, but that had been her initiating it, not him. So she paused a moment, took in a breath and stood, joining in his awkward embrace.

    “I'm still Stare, either way,” she said with a sigh. “But seven months of living this double life makes you used to how you have to act in every situation.” She squeezed him tightly, briefly, then let go and stepped back. When she did there was utter joy in her eyes. “Okay let us order first, then you can actually tell me why you are here.”

    “I'll trust your judgment on food. The last thing I tried to eat was some kind of food wrap from a vendor in a street stall. Not the best thing I have had, barring my own attempts at cooking.” He had squeezed her back when she had held on, but now he was folding his long limbs up and sitting down at the table. His body was a bit too gangly to fit properly here, but he wasn't some absurd height that would make it impossible to sit down. He watched as she popped her head out the door to order, her voice shifting back to its polite modulation, then she came back and stood nearby as they waited.

    Now that they were sitting down, he pulled off his coat and folded it up, then set it on the floor near his seat. He shifted a bit, uncomfortable, as this revealed the fact that the crimson tunic was all he had on his chest under the coat - gone was the usual long sleeved shirt he would have worn before. One hand came up and rubbed his arm as he gave her a crooked smile.

    “I couldn't keep hiding them forever. And you and a few others accepted me despite them - how could I keep being ashamed of them when you didn't hate them?”

    “Why would anyone hate them?” she asked, rather confused. “I mean, alright you get the racists - trust me, I know that,” she gestured at her face in general, “But you're still human. You just have … scars. Tattoos. Whatever you want to call them.” She paused, and sat back. “I understand not liking your own appearance. Believe it or not I used to permanently wear a hooded cloak myself, but I'm glad you've adopted them. They are your history and your future.”

    Raising a hand she scratched the underside of her beak, the claws making a raking sound, a manner of showing she was thinking. “But yes. My question is, what on earth are you doing in my - our - city?”

    “Well. I'm quite glad you don't wear that all covering cloak these days. And as for hating them..” Two threads emerged from his arm and waved at her before sliding back down inside of his skin. “Some people see more than they want to, and realize that the threads move beneath my skin. It does bother some, but I've decided not to let it aggravate me. My friends accept them and that's all I concern myself with.”
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  8. #8
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    He had to admit, the sound of her claws on her beak was an odd one. It also made him curious - was that a learned gesture, one she was imitating from someone else who scratched their chin while they thought? Or did her beak actually have nerve endings and she could feel itches and the scratching? From what he knew, it was mostly likely an affectation, as bird beaks in natural animals - and in Aphrael - were not sensitive aside from pressure. He blinked and sat back as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. It seemed like she had forgotten their discussion about it back in the prison cells.

    “Well. I’ve come to Raeria to investigate Lindequalme. Something about the place is calling to me. And I figured, since I was in the region, I might as well swing by and visit my closest friend.” Here he smiled at her. “This way, if I disappear, you know what happened at least. I'd hate for you to be in the dark if I somehow met my end.” He winced after speaking, realizing too late that that probably sounded rather grim and unpleasant.

    “Meet your …?” her brow rose. “Okay, that is not going to happen. I remember you talking about the forest but didn't know that you wanted to do it so soon. It is a very dangerous place.” Folding her arms she ran her eyes up and down him. A spark flared in her mind as she realised he had called her his 'closest friend’. Surprise came into her eyes, but then a firm hand of her own. She was not his best friend in the world, that was silly. One of his closest he had meant to say, or really had said. Obviously. She couldn't let herself get away with too much hope, want and passion. In life she had other things to do than get overwhelmed with the messy politics of best friends.

    “At least stay a day or so here. And I can … well at least provide more information. We've got the library at the house for instance.” Maybe she could even go with him. Make sure he did not die. Yes, she thought of him as one of her closest friends herself, a recent acquaintance outside of the closed world of Beinost and Vitruvion's service. But she would not mention that yet - rather she would talk to Vitruvion himself, when she had a chance. “I'm pretty sure we have a treatise on survival in Lindequalme, at least one.”

    Hm. Her eyes had lit up for a moment there, before her hand tightened on her arm for a moment. Nevin for a second wished he could read minds - he was curious as to what had run through her thoughts there. As it was, he just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, sliding his eyes away from her piercing gaze. She was definitely upset with him for his quite poor word choice, and he couldn't really blame her. If she had come up to him suddenly and said she was going somewhere he knew was dangerous, and casually mentioned she was just letting him know in case she died… He winced again.

    “Sorry, sorry. I just thought that, of all the people I wanted to let know about my wanderings somewhere, you were top of the list. I don't have many people I care about, and you were there first.” Hopefully the apology would soothe that glare. That, and agreeing with her. He had been informed, rather forcefully, that when he was in the wrong about something, agreeing with the woman would at least mitigate some of her righteous anger.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  9. #9
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    The redhead’s eyes went wide and the pupils shrank to tiny dots, the dark red irises swallowing up the black dots as surprise washed over him. He tried to take a drink of tea to buy himself a moment to think, not realizing that his grip had tightened so much the whites of his knuckles were showing through his skin, making the red lines that ran across him stand out in even sharper relief. Nevin had thought that all of the bastards had been been killed. That there was another one of the demonic mages alive…

    “Avis, I will gladly help you with those damnable Hunters and the Sabaziosians Any information this one might have about the corruption in my Church is incidental to me at this point - those bastards are the ones responsible for your torment, and I will gladly help you punish them for that. If you have any way I can help, please don't hesitate to tell me.”

    Stare blinked a couple of times at the terminology of ‘my Church’ but said nothing. Only a little bit of logic was required to understand that Nevin spoke about the Crimson Church and the cult his background was embroiled in. In a way she herself was part of a secretive, private religious group that though they did not worship had a genuine god at their centre.

    “Vitruvion has punished him greatly already,” she spoke soft and quiet, remembering those first hours of hearing the screams, “When we first captured him and later … then he fell into unconsciousness for weeks.” She looked a little uncomfortable. “That side has sort of been taken care of, but we still have not managed to get much information from him, despite … despite how powerful Vitruvion is. But you might have more luck, he might even be able to give you more information for your own purposes.”

    Looking right up at him she fixed Nevin the most trustworthy gaze she could summon. “Maybe you might have a way of breaking through to him. There are a couple of issues, but I can work them out. One being where we are having to hold him.” Wincing slightly she stared at him. “The one place you probably do not want to see in this city.”

    The one place in the city he did not want to see. It was easy enough to figure out where she meant - the place where she had been tortured, raped, and bound to Vitruvion’s will. But it was also where she had grown strong enough to - not to break free, but to become useful enough to be released from that hell. The Hollow. Nevin took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

    He only wanted to go there to see the place burning. But at this point, his personal desires mattered very little. Stare had asked him for his help, Nevin would give it however he could. He calmly picked up his tea cup and drained it before eating one of the little cakes, then he brushed off his fingers of the crumbs. Finally he met her gaze, and nodded.

    “That shall not be an issue. You're asking me, so I shall go down there. I also have an idea of how to get this fellow to share what he knows. And Sir Ellsmith’s protections should be enough to prevent a repeat of what happened last time we questioned one of these men. If not, well. Disposal of bodies from that place probably happen fairly regularly.” He clasped his hands together and set them on the table, meeting her eyes intently.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  10. #10
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657

    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    "And I'll certainly stay a day or two. I’ve got to find a place to spend the night though - know of any half way decent inns?” If she knew an inn, then she'd know where he was too when she came looking for him. Yes, that was a safe, good plan.

    “An inn?” She blinked. “If you're staying for a day, you are are staying in the house.” The sentence was blunt and precise. In her opinion there was no suggestion otherwise. “There are good places to stay in the city, but no, you might as well get the joys of a noble’s household. One of the few perks of my life.”

    Stare opened her mouth to say more but a polite knock came on the door. She answered, and a dainty elf maiden popped her head in baring a tray, which was heavily laden with small cakes, sandwiches and tea. Smiling she pushed it onto the table and asked:

    “Is this to go on the account, lady Stare?”

    Stare nodded quickly, going back to her polite tones. “Yes Cecily, thank you.”

    And the elf maid bowed slightly before moving out. When that was done Stare looked back at Nevin. “As to coming to visit, I'm glad you did. Because …” she paused, thinking how best to put it. “Well. Help yourself to food first, then I'll explain what we've got.”

    Nevin raised an eyebrow as he poured himself and her cups of tea, then took a sandwich. It was a delicate little thing, obviously a dainty finger food - and he consumed it in less than two bites. A brief flash of irritation danced across his face before being followed by amusement, and he took another to pop into his mouth. He chewed this one a bit more slowly before sipping his tea, then set the cup down with a soft clink.

    “I am quite grateful of the offer of lodging for a night. He won't mind?” The alchemist knew her master wasn't exactly his biggest fan, and he didn't want to make things worse for her. He was quite curious though - what exactly did she have that she was glad to have him here for? It wasn't an alchemical situation, as she would have come to him in that case. He folded his hands together as he waited for her to explain it - guessing would get him absolutely no where, as he had no clue to even start from.

    For Stare it was clear that ‘he’ meant Vitruvion. Her brow rose slightly as she observed her friend, a small piece of bruschetta and grilled tomato poised in her fingers. It was a fine serving, one she could easily eat with one bite and a famed version of such a food in Beinost.

    “In all practical honesty we work sometimes with a demon who stays at the house occasionally. He will not mind, though it is his house you are my friend,” she placed the bread delicacy into her beak and gulped it down. “Besides,” she said in a lower voice, “He is otherwise entertained.” A dark sudden look in her eye made it clear that she spoke of the Hollow. “He said he would not be back until tomorrow afternoon.”
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

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