A Match Made In Hell

[Ags]

Someone had stolen Luned's ticket while she was away in Ettermire and Agnie opted to keep her copy, as this individual of questionable character intrigued her enough into writing again; the thought of a mystery pen pal was simply titillating! The piece of paper was an exact replica of the other, upon which any marks would mirror exactly upon its twin, and through scribbles on the margins, the pair began a sort of correspondence. It all began with the stranger's first note (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?25044-Child-of-Darkness&p=205024&viewfull=1#post205024):


knock knock


Who's there?

Her question remained unanswered for a couple days, at which point she was simply dying of anticipation. She pulled the ticket off the wall where she'd pinned it and penned a quick plea.


It's not very polite to leave a lady in suspense.

And, to her delight, a response came with a few hours.


You've yet to prove you're a lady, cutter, but you can call me Aurelius.


If you would like proof, you may find it at my office.

She kindly provided her address, information which pointed to the coat closet on the second floor above a somewhat notorious pub in Radasanth, and then she waited. The first days passed with her at the edge of her seat, the entire ordeal feeling rather like a blind date, except this Aurelius might show up any time of day or simply not at all. And he didn't, at least during the first week, and by the second, the fairy's interest was waning. She'd nearly forgotten all about him, the neglected ticket collecting dust on the wall, when he finally settled back in town and decided to investigate Luned's little friend.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

If you would like proof, you may find it at my office.

Aurelianus read over the note again, smirking. He had to admit, the chit on the other end of this magickal little slip of paper had him intrigued- he knew her name, where to find her, and that she was associated with Luned; the scribe chit he had saved the life of back in Ettermire. Not through any form of altruism, of course. He'd blackmailed the chit for a favour to be redeemed sometime in the future.

It had taken him a while to get out of the shit he'd gotten himself into with Swanra'ann, back in Alerar's capital. But, as he thought of Swanra'ann, he remembered how he had escaped, and the two berks he'd been forced to work with out there. The girl, Luned, had made it out alright, as far as he knew. The bald cutter, Flint, on the other hand.. well, Aurelius wasn't sure how he'd managed to make it out of the industrial nightmare of Ettermire- he hadn't taken the Anarchist's way out, that was for sure, but he wasn't in the city. The Queen of The Pit had scoured every inch of that hellhole, and her rage when she realised the thug had given her the laugh was.. well, even for someone who had seen every Circle of the Hells, it was scary.

As the leather-clad tiefling banged around the bustling streets of Radasanth, the metropolitan heartland of Corone, he found his brain-box ticking away; he had a favour owed from both of the sods, but he didn't know where either of them was.

But, as he toyed with the ticket in his hand, Drak'shal decided he could kill two birds with one stone; he could track down Luned (and by extension, Flint), and have a decent laugh while he was at it. Hells, if the chit turned out to be as pathetic as Luned herself, he might just nick her throat after getting the scribe's location. If she was a looker...

With a lascivious grin, the half-breed quickened his pace.

***

It didn't take all that long for him to find Agnie Lars. The fairy princess had given him the exact address, a building down by the river.

Walking in the front door, a cigarette clamped between his lips, red quills hanging down in a spiky curtain in front of his serpent eyes, the tiefling looked around. The rickety sign above the door said 'Moody's Ale Cellar'. Chant round this anthill held this place was a bar, brothel and general hell-hole. The whores were cleaner here than most knocking-shops, the bub was cheap, but good...

In short, it was exactly the sort of place Aurelius felt comfortable in.

The tiefling ran a hand through his quills, making the charms and tokens round his wrist rattle. He scanned the crowd, simply out of habit, but he didn't see anyone who could be a threat. The half-breed blew out a steady stream of smoke, and waded into the warm embrace of the drunken mob- in seconds, he was shoulder-barging past drunk orcs and dwarves, getting a sly feel of the piking gorgeous elf chit serving the bar, and marking the whores as they tried to find someone to warm their sheets. Normally, the tiefling would have been up there with two or three of them for an afternoon's fun and games, but he had other scores to settle before that.

After swinging by the bar for a decent whisky, the warlock headed up the stairs, looking again at the ticket to make sure he had the right place. Glancing from the ticket to the small door in front of him, he figured this had to be it. Drawing another lungful of smoke, he grabbed the door handle, and opened it..

.. only to find a coat closet.

The tiefling closed the door again, and looked the other way- there was a second flight of stairs, and the client's entrance to the brothel. The barmy chit's led me to a pikin' closet, he sighed, trying to decide what to do. Then he noticed the sign on the door:


Knock once for coat check
Knock twice for Princess Agnie Lar

Chuckling at his own stupidity, the tiefling tucked his hands in his coat pockets, and hammered his boot into the base of the door twice.

[Ags]

After quite a wait, to the point that Aurelianus nearly gave up on the situation, there was a click and the door sprang ajar. Instead of leading to a closet this time, however, it presented a cozy little parlor dressed in gilded frames and jewel-toned upholstery. In the threshold stood a short, voluptuous lady, quite obviously something other than human from the radiance of her gold hair and mottled eyes. For someone who wasn't necessarily expecting him, she grinned perhaps a little more enthusiastically than most when first making acquaintance with a half-demon. "Aurelius?"

"Nothin' gets past you, luv," he smirked, eyeing the fairy appreciatively, fully derailed from his revised master plan to torch the place, starting with the coats.

Agnie beckoned him in, stepping aside to let him pass. She was dressed in multiple layers of patterned skirts as mismatched as her eyes and a lace-lined silk blouse, buttoned halfway and pinned with an egg-shaped opal brooch. As he obliged, she set in with the questions. "Do you like tea? So, how do you and Luned know each other?"

"I'll pass on the… tea," he said, not actually sure what it was. "If you 'ave any bub, though, I'll 'ave a swallow. And as for your chit, Luned, well… we did a bit of work together in Ettermire."

They both seemed to be speaking different languages and Ags paused, considering what this "bub" might be, then scurried behind the couch where she knelt out of view to produce a half-consumed bottle of rum. "You mean this?" It wasn't hers, obviously, likely left there by a guest from some recent fete, but Aurelius shrugged, accepting it. The girl settled down in a poof of skirts on the plush, pink couch located centrally in the room, several other comfortable pieces of furniture surrounding it, all facing the hearth. She curled her feet under herself as she retrieved her own refreshment from the coffee table before her, the man's visit obviously having interrupted her tea break. A book laid face down on the couch next to her and there were multiple half-finished domestic projects strewn around the room, from embroidery to knitting to some rather creepy voodoo doll-looking thing propped oddly on the mantlepiece. Once Aurelius was satisfactorily settled in near her and she'd had a sip from her cup, she continued the conversation. "And of course I know that bit, I'm the one who brought her to Ettermire in the first place. But you know, when I picked her up, she told me to toss the ticket with some cryptic excuse… now, why would she say something like that?"

Because the thought was simply too amusing not to share, Aurelianus feigned a sigh of discontent that was betrayed by the lingering smirk on his lips. "Could say me and your chit 'ad a bit of a fling," he explained, and it was vague enough that it wasn't even a lie. "But you're makin' it sound like she doesn't want to see me again. Sad, that."

"Pity. She doesn't seem like the type to go about having affairs everywhere, but you know, she's so uptight all the time, it's really just what she needs." Agnie was obviously a trustworthy source of delusional advice on life and love; to her, just about anything could be answered by enjoying some form of bacchanalian joviality.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

**"Pity. She doesn't seem like the type to go about having affairs everywhere, but you know, she's so uptight all the time, it's really just what she needs."**

Aurelius, perched on the edge of the disturbingly bright pink couch, blinked slowly. He eyed the chit next to him from the corner of his eye, wondering if that was some subtle form of sarcasm, or if she really was that barmy.

He fidgeted for a minute or two, not used to sitting on anything so soft.. or pink. The tiefling couldn't exactly relax sitting here, the blades on his armour meaning to sit back was to shred the "delightful" upholstery. Instead, he got up, dropping his heavy coat at the foot of the couch, before pacing around the rainbow nightmare that was Ags' kip. He took another mouthful of rum, straight from the bottle, savouring the burn as it wormed its way down his throat. That's decent bub, he admitted. He even tipped the bottle toward his host appreciatively- that was probably the nearest to a thank you she was likely to receive.

Shockingly, the half-demon Anarchist wasn't big on manners.

Flicking his head back, to clear the quills from his eyes, the warlock gave some of the little dolls sat on the mantelpiece an inquisitive prod with his finger. Whether the chit actually knew how to use this kind of sympathetic magick, he was unsure. But glancing again at the.. eccentric creature, almost swallowed in her skirts, it wouldn't surprise him. After taking a few tours of the room, inspecting some of the curios and oddities strewn haphazardly over the place, he came back to the couch. Her scent reached him, and once again, the half-breed knew she wasn't human- her hair, her eyes, her ti-- the tiefling stopped his train of thought, realising it had taken a sharp turn into a much dirtier place. The musings made him chuckle quietly. But he knew there was something familiar about that scent... he'd encountered her kind before, but after traveling to as many worlds as he had, it was difficult to place it.

No, there was definitely something off about this chit- to most, sitting in a room that ten minutes before hadn't been there, with a chit of unknown species, and an obviously loose grip on sanity (judging by the colour scheme of the room, at any rate) would be enough to have them running for the hills. But Aurelianus had banged around a good few places, and seen some truly barmy things. No, if anything, he was curious about the golden-haired little trickster.

"So," he said, his voice seeming friendlier than his appearance would suggest he was capable of, "what's your story then, luv? 'ow did you meet Luned?"

He wasn't really interested in her acquaintance with the scribe of course, but the more he could get himself in good with her friends, the easier it would be to use them as leverage should she decide to try and back out of their deal. An' besides, he thought, a smirk again crossing his lips, this one looks like she could be fun.

He came back to the couch, opting to sit up on the armrest, his boots up on the plush cushions. Aurelius offered the bottle to Ags, but when she politely declined, he took another swig, and sat the bottle on the small table next to him.

[Ags]

The fairy placed her teacup and saucer back on the table and folded her hands primly in her lap, eyeing his boots on the cushions. She didn't scold him, but something in her glance gave warning as she looked back to his face. "Mutual friends, she knows my neighbors and comes around quite often. They're a pleasant group, but usually she and I don't speak of much other than business." She leaned back, resting her arm on the back of the couch, and that look of warning turned into something different altogether. If Aurelianus ever felt violated by someone's gaze, this would be the time, as Ags gave him a rather blunt and thorough visual shakedown. "Speaking of business… you," she speculated with a mischievous little smile, "Seem like the sort who likes money. Am I correct?"

The man grinned viciously, baring his fangs in pleasure. "Well, luv, you're not wrong."

Pleased with her excellent sense of judgment, Agnie leaned forward. "Might you be convinced to join an organization of sorts? It's called Misery Business, and we're seeking bodies for a silly little war that's just starting. The pay is quite good."

Aurelius nodded to himself for a moment, his thoughts unreadable behind his snake-like eyes. "Aye, I could be… convinced." His smile was cold and he ran a hand over his chin, feeling the rough stubble there. "Keep rattlin' your bone-box, luv. It'll cost you a pretty bit of jink to 'ire a cutter like me."

"It's difficult to convince someone I don't know very well," Ags replied, then cheekily added, "Yet. But, while it's not my money, I do know it comes from rather deep pockets, so you'll likely be able to name your price. Does that help?"

The tiefling took another swallow of rum, letting the dark bub burn its way down his gullet. "Alright, I'll admit, you got me curious. Lann me the dark of it, and we'll see what we can arrange." He paused, giving the fairy a very obvious look-over, running his forked tongue over his bottom lip. "I'm sure we can manage to make this… worth our while."

Agnie was oblivious at this point, having risen from her seat with enthusiasm to choose a piece of paper off the collection of tickets she had pinned against the robin's egg blue damask wallpaper. "Excellent! I shall inform Zack. Or, actually––" she glanced coyly over her shoulder, abandoning her task of writing a note on the slip–– "How do you feel about a little field trip?"

[Zack Blaze]

He slammed his fists against the punching bag, jab after jab coming out at lightning speeds. Sweat trickled down his delicate features, drizzling down his neck and through the crevices between his abs. Through each punch, Zack Blaze kept his guard up with whichever hand was free, remembering his self-taught training as a street fighter to always be on the defense, even when trying to take offense. There was nobody else in the gym; Misery Business liked to buy out places for the day (or occasionally, lifetime) so their members could perform their activities in private.

Each slam against the bag echoed in the room, not much else in this particular area than a weight bench and a table of snack graciously set up by Zack’s company. He could remember reading the letter that the Cult of Blessed Torture had sent him, requesting his aid once again in stopping the Ixian Knights. He paused for a moment, his hand gliding over to his face. His muscle memory could still recall how it felt to receive such a hefty blast to the face thanks to Kyla Orlouge. Zack had lost out to the Ixian Knights during their war for Corone, and to try again so quickly meant they had amassed a larger army.

Zack would not ally with his former killers this time.

He began punching again, ignoring the sound of the door to his right opening, as well as the mixed scent of freshly brewed tea, hot sugary cake, a hint of birthday cake like perfume that wafted inwards. His focus maintained on hitting the bag, each blow being accompanied by a grunt. “Whatcha got for me Ags?”

“So you’re Zack then eh?”

The unfamiliar voice caused Zack to stop his training and stand up straight, turning to look at the source of the strange accent. The stranger stood at an average height, with strange eyes and hair. Zack quirked an eyebrow, looking over the shoulder of this ruffian to Ags, who nodded her approval to the teen. If the princess had brought him somebody, it meant that she had found somebody she deemed worthy of the Misery Business cause. “That’s me, Zack Blaze of Misery Business.”

Zack didn’t extend his hand. He figured someone who looked like this didn’t really do formal greetings all that much. The youth walked over to the oak table, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat off of his form with it. “If Ags brought you that means you’re someone who likes to get their way. Well you’ve come to the right place. What if I were to tell you that I’m about to pay you two-hundred and fifty gold pieces just for your time?”

It wasn’t the classiest opening pitch, but damn if it wouldn’t grab some ears.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

**"How do you feel about a little field trip?"**

In retrospect, those words should have been bloody ominous.

But, accompanied as they were with a coy smile from the gorgeous little fairy, Aurelius didn't care much. He grabbed his coat from the floor, throwing it on with a shrug, before strolling across the room toward her. The bottle of rum was still held loosely in his left hand, his right again rubbing across his unshaven jaw. Perhaps, he should have been apprehensive, nervous, hesitant.. but that had never been Aurelianus' style.

"Fair do's, luv. Lead the way," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement from within the bluish rings that always circled them.

He leaned against the.. By the Powers' balls, what the bloody 'ell was she drinkin' when she painted this place? he wondered, trying not to look directly at any of the furnishings, in case they induced a seizure. Instead, he let his eyes wander over the tickets pinned to the wall, marking the different names and locations of the people listed. It was a habit, gathering up as much knowledge as he could. To date, it had never been a bad thing. He was brought out of his reverie a moment later when Ags turned away from the collected tickets, after returning the one in her hand to its place on the wall.

In moments, the tiefling was hugging the wall, trying to steer clear of the barmy little Fey running around, hunting out all manner of outlandish attire from wardrobes, cupboards and any other container she could find, obviously as giddy as a Mercykiller at an exectution, at having an excuse to pick out an outfit.

**BANG**

Aurelianus whirled on the spot, two balls of Hellfire floating in his palms instantly, but he laughed under his breath when he realised- it had been Ags, slamming her bedroom door as she went to get changed. She was rattling her bone-box at him the entire time, his pointed ears pricking up as he tried to follow her ramblings. Got the attention span of a pikin' lim-lim, he grinned, taking yet another swallow of the rum, the bottle now.. inexplicably near-empty. A pleasant warmth was spreading out from the warlock's gut, tingling as it reached the tips of his fingers. Just after peak, an' already half-pissed. Good day, so far.

He parked his ears, and could make out Ags rattling on about someone named.. Zack? He strained his heightened senses a little more, and nodded- aye, definitely the name Zack. By this point, the leather-clad half-demon was standing right outside Ags' door, a now empty bottle dangling from his hand.

Just one peek ain't gonna kill me...

The Cager crept closer to the door, reaching out a hand. Turning the doorknob slowly, he eased the door open..

.. And instantly was launched across the parlour, as a massive pseudopod lashed out from inside the doorway, smashing into his chest. He could see nothing inside except utter blackness, even with the glaring peak sunlight streaming in the gaudily curtained windows, and by the time the bruised tiefling extricated himself from the shattered remains of a small coffee table, the slick black tentacle had slid back behind the door, closing it with a resounding bang. The disgruntled half-breed picked himself up and dusted himself off, growling strings of profanities under his breath. But, before he could do anything about the broken table, something clicked in his brain-box; something that made Aurelianus think coming here had been worthwhile after all. The barmy little Fey chit could make portals!! The realisation, coupled with the evidence of the entrance to her parlour, and the welling bruises in the centre of his chest, was astounding.

As a planewalker, Aurelius could find, open and utilise portals similar to the ones found here, but he'd never met a cutter who could actually create them. Oh, I can think of a few ways to use 'er, he smiled darkly, for once not even considering the sexual innuendos.

A few minutes later, Ags emerged in a new outfit, with a knowing smile on her lips. That small gesture said it all- she knew what he'd tried to do, and what had happened as a result. However, she was obviously too excited at the prospect of their little "field trip" to say anything more. She headed for the door, with the battered warlock in tow. She paused for a second, then grabbed the handle and opened the door up, stepping through without, a quick gesture telling Aurelius to follow. And that he did, walking through the door--

-- emerging into a well-lit, well-used gym. Standing a short distance away was a blonde basher, human by the looks of it, hammering away at a punching bag. He didn't turn as the mismatched pair sauntered into the room, his fists pounding rhythmically against the sand-filled leather.

**“Whatcha got for me Ags?”**

"So, you're the Zack cutter I've been 'earin' so much about, eh?"

Instantly, he turned away from his training, facing Aurelius squarely, obviously sizing up the Cager before him.

**“That’s me, Zack Blaze of Misery Business.”**

"Never much seen the point in those things," Drak'shal said conversationally, nodding to the punching bag. "Bag's don't 'it back."

The man- boy, more like, the planetouched thought, but he didn't judge. The human looked around the twenty-year mark, if he wasn't mistaken. And the warlock could well remember the sort of Hell he was capable of raising at that age, just six years back. But, when the lad didn't try for a handshake, Aurelius' like for him rose a fraction.

**“If Ags brought you that means you’re someone who likes to get their way. Well you've come to the right place. What if I were to tell you that I’m about to pay you two-hundred and fifty gold pieces just for your time?”**

Aurelianus glanced over his shoulder at Ags, serpent eyes unreadable to the fairy. In fact, most people found it hard to read him, owing largely to his demonic heritage- it was something the Anarchist was extremely grateful for. He turned back to Zack, strolling around the room a little, trying to gauge where they were; the balmy heat could be any of a number of countries he'd visited, and the gym didn't have many windows to provide a clear view of what lay outside. Or that was what it looked like he was doing.

Inside, the wheels were spinning, taking apart the offer before him, trying to find any catch, any way this could be a peel, any possible way this Zack Blaze could be trying to bob the canny Cager. But, as far as the experienced cony-catcher could tell, the offer seemed legit. So, pulling up a stool, the tiefling dropped his coat, resting his arms (carefully) on his bladed knees. He glanced again from Ags to the blonde-haired human.

"I'd say enough rattlin' your bone-box, boy. Show me the jink, and I'll mark what you need. For that bit of garnish, you 'ave my ear."

[Zack Blaze]

“I can honestly say that I didn’t understand any of that,” Zack smiled, obviously only slightly joking, “but you’re still here, so I guess you’ll let me make my pitch. Ags.”

Ags stepped back into the door in which she and Aurelianus had just entered, returning a few minutes later with two bags, one substantially bigger than the other. The smaller bag was tossed at the strange speaking man’s feet, the sound of change clinking together upon impact echoing throughout the gym. Aurelianus bent down, picking up the bag and opening it. Zack grinned, appreciating any man who didn’t just take anything at face value. He watched his new friends eyes dart back and forth for a moment in the bag, as if he were trying to count all the money at once. The demon’s eyes raised from his pay with three simple words. “Start talkin’, cutter.”

“I like that name. Cutter. Rolls off the tongue. Anyways, Misery Business is a company that likes to, for lack of a better definition, cause as much chaos while making the easiest profit margins imaginable. If we put out a village fire, there’s a good chance we actually caused it in order to tax the villagers to save them. If we’re hired for a contract killing, we inform the victim to his face so he pays us to not kill him, and then do it anyways. We are a group of zero accountability; you can pretty much do whatever you want and the higher ups will make sure your tracks are covered.”

“I’m listenin….” Zack had apparently caught Aurelianus’ attention further.

“Simply put, we have two events coming up in the near future. The first is a tournament; a two versus two contest in which I want to put as many members as possible in the teams in order for Misery Business to have at least one champion in our organization this year. Will do wonders for our credibility.”

“Sorry cutter, but I ain’t takin’ no bloody dive so you can ‘ave it your way.”

Zack shook his head, laughing a bit at the concept. “I don’t want you to, friend. Quite the opposite.” Zack looked dead into the eyes of his new acquaintance, a fire burning in his eyes as he gazed into the demon’s features, “In the event that we do fight, I want you to give me your all. I don’t want you to pull a punch on any of us, and neither will we. Let the better fighter advance, as it were.”

Aurelianus nodded. “Wot’s it pay?”

“Five hundred, plus whatever you earn for advancing. Next, I hear tell of a war brewing here in Corone. I want to make absolutely sure that Misery Business has people on both side of this equation. I’ve heard that there’s a one thousand gold piece signing bonus for joining up with one side. On top of that, I will personally throw in two hundred and fifty additional pieces for each person you take out on the opposite team.”

There was a slight twitch in the demon’s ears, causing Zack’s grin to widen. “So, what do you say, want to become a very profitable member of the Misery Business?”

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Being paid for causing utter mayhem?

Powers be good, I'm likin' the sound of this, he smirked, feeling the satisfying weight of the jink in his hands. His quick scan of the contents told him it was all there.

The more Zack talked, the more Aurelius found himself agreeing mentally. The jink was beyond good, and all to be the same canny bastard he was anyway. He got up from the stool and strolled over to the side of the room, laying down the bag of coin next to a table layered with assorted snacks, and draping his coat over the top- he may have been standing, listening to a work proposal from this cutter, but nothing would ever remove the tiefling's ingrained paranoia and mistrust.

Besides, I can tell exactly what kind of cutter 'e is, the plane-touched mused.

He could almost see the gears turning behind the man's green eyes, planning and scheming how best to utilise someone with Aurelianus' particular skills. Aurelius knew this, because it was exactly what he was doing. This "Misery Business" sounded like a decent starting point, but the Anarchist had his own agenda- all that Zack was offering him was a way to further that. True, he would work for this set-up for a while, but only so long as it was beneficial to his plans. But, after hearing Zack's description of his usual peels, the warlock made a mental note to keep a careful eye on him. No body's ever conned me, not about to break the 'abit of a lifetime. He knelt by his coat, bladed armour catching the light filtering through the windows as he fished through his inner pockets; after a few moments, he brought out a pair of cigarettes, clamping one between his lips and lighting it with a small burst of flame from his palm. The other he flicked to Zack, who caught it easily. It may have seemed like a friendly gesture, but the Cager was scanning his opponent- the blonde-haired brawler caught it easily, with a confident grace, but he didn't bring it up to his lips.

Instead, the man moved over to the snack table, laying it down. Aurelianus nodded to Agnie, then the cigarette- he doubted the gorgeous little Fey chit would indulge in his vice, but it was nice to be nice. And after watching the chit's body for the past while, the warlock was sure he wanted to be nice to her. Shrugging the depraved thoughts away for the moment, the tiefling drew in a lungful of smoke, finally deigning to speak after a few minutes of silence.

"Alright, cutter, you 'ave a deal. I'll sign up for your group on three conditions. An' we've already sorted the jink, so we're golden there," he added, blowing out a steady stream of smoke. "I'm already signed up for the Lornius ride, so I'll gladly take your five 'undred; condition one, even if I win- and I plan to, make no mistake- you can tell every sod from 'ere to Hell and back you've got a champ on your team. But you ain't tellin' anyone my name. Don't much care for the whole 'fame and glory' bollocks."

The tiefling circled the room again, still puffing away. When he strolled past Agnie, he found his eyes drawn once again over her curvaceous form, lingering where it probably shouldn't. He didn't doubt Ags knew what he was doing, but Aurelius had never been shy around chits. With a wink, he continued on, his thoughts racing. With an outfit like this backin' me, I can get to work for the League, and if needs be, shift the blame onto them if I get scragged... It was.. an entertaining thought.

He turned back to Zack, serpentine eyes flashing from under his fringe of blood-red quills.

"An' I've 'eard the chant on this little war brewin'. Must say, I was already goin' to join in for a laugh anyway. You pay me for that, then you've got my loyalty as long as I've got my coin. Condition two, if I 'elp you out in this scuffle, I can count on you to 'elp me and my allies when we start our fight." The half-demon made no move to elaborate further on that, before continuing, "third and final condition, chief. I may be on your payroll, but I don't work for no-one; I'll do my own thing, but I'll do it for you.. so long I answer to no sod but myself."

He walked over to Ags, finishing his smoke, flicking the butt away into a nearby bucket. If I get to spend more time round 'er, it won't be a bad thing either, he reasoned.

"We got a deal, mate?" he asked, his inhuman eyes locked on Zack Blaze- his potential new partner.

[Zack Blaze]

Zack had gotten used to this sort of thing by now. Someone would come up when he made an offer to join Misery Business, and wish to be treated as an equal rather than a subordinate. It was a simple request, and one that seemed to ease any tensions that could easily arise from the street fighter barking out orders. Zack had found that people were much easier to manipulate if they were placed higher or on the same footing as himself.

They were delusions, and pretending was something Zack excelled at.

“You got yourself a deal there, Aurie,” Zack grasped the hand of the demon in his own, closing the hold with his free hand as a subtle display of power. There was a slight twitch in the tiefling’s facial features, which hinted a slight annoyance at the nickname he had been bestowed. Zack made a mental note to remember calling him ‘Aurie’ in the future. Zack released his grip a few seconds later, his eyes shifting over to the strangely quiet Ags.

“Make sure he gets his own room and accommodations at the office,” Zack said, his gaze going back towards the demon, “Just tell Ags here whatever you’d like to have in your room, and she’ll customize it to spec. You’ll find we have some features in our offices that are rare for most of Althanas. Indoor plumbing, for instance,” Zack smiled, and nodded his goodbye to the demon, turning back towards the bag.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I got some training to do. Can’t wait to fight you out there in the field, Aurie!” Zack slammed his fist against the bag as he heard Ags’ door close.

[Ags]

Back at Ags' flat, the excitement of having recruited a new ally put a fresh bounce in the fey's step as she closed the door behind them. "He's a bit smarmy, but you learn to put up with it. I have a feeling we'll all be great friends," she grinned. "And indeed, if you cross paths with Zack and myself in the tournament, do promise you won't hold back. I certainly won't." There was something a bit unsettling in her cheerful gaze; it betrayed the fact that such concepts as violence were just as much games as anything else, her otherworldly upbringing giving her an alien perspective on silly human ideas like compassion.

Quite possibly Aurelius' preferred brand of crazy, he grinned, obviously relishing the prospect. "Don't worry, luv. I never do." He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of whatever Ags packed for a punch.

"Well, then," Agnie said, something on her wall of pinned tickets catching her eye. She strolled over and plucked one off the garish wallpaper, reading a fresh note on it. "Alas, I have somewhere to be, but perhaps you could stop by later this week? We shall set you up. There are quite a few perks, you know," she added, glancing over to him as she tucked the paper in her pocket.

The half-breed raised an eyebrow, his natural curiosity kicking in, but he held his tongue as he offered a shrug in response. "Aye, I've got nothin' else to do, really. Might as well bang around with you, luv," he smiled, showing a glint of fang.

"Perfect!" Ags' hands clapped together to punctuate their arrangement, then she hopped over to the coat rack where she grabbed a brightly woven, Fallien-style shawl. As she drew it around her shoulders, she walked to her bedroom door. "I trust you can see yourself out. Have a pleasant evening, comrade," she waved, and then she left not into her room, but a lush, tropical garden. A hot draft of humidity swept through the parlor, settling sticky and fragrant around Aurelius, and then she was gone.

[Mordelain]

Thread Title: A Match Made In Hell
Judgement Type: Condensed Rubric
Participants: Ags, Aurelianus, Zack Blaze

Plot ~ 15/30

Story ~ 5/10 –

Setting ~ 4/10 – a lacking aspect of the thread, I would wager this was due to heavy use of dialogue and physical descriptors. Do not let one strong part of any story fall by the wayside, even if it does come out stronger in other aspects (such as, in this case, persona and communication). I picture Ags to be more colourful, Zack to be more attentive to the things around him (out of boredom perhaps?) and Aurelianus to be more sulphur, smoke, and ashen – bring out your characters through the setting.

Pacing ~ 4/10 – alas, one of the major negatives to Match Made in Hell is pacing. This is part because of its length, and part because of each post’s length. This is unavoidable in a short thread of this nature. If you ‘fluff’ the thread with unneeded occurrences, you will hamper other scores, and vice versa. Primarily, the main issue was with Aurelianus;

You trace back over dialogue from previous threads in each post. Post 7, for example, sees you ** around the other character’s questions and comments. When you go back and forth between past and present, it is difficult to separate. You should consider bunnying your dialogue responses to questions in other people’s posts, to avoid having to deal with too many actions at once. At the very least, re-write the exposition as narrative, or as description. Sometimes, the reader can surmise your responses to things just in one reply.

Character ~ 20/30

Communication ~ 8/10 – though our tiefling friend’s accent is thick, and Zack is boisterously common (lest said about Ags demure allure the better), you all communicated well with one another in character.

Action ~ 5/10 –

Persona ~ 7/10 – This trio have strong, evocative, and distinct personalities. There is no other way to describe your respective grasp of your character’s identity. Zack’s infuriating inability to grasp colloquialisms and regional dialect (reflected in ‘but I guess you’ll let me make my pitch’ in post 8), gives him a loathsome, but lovable sense of ‘not quite right’. Ags is delightfully white trash, and Aurelianus is, as you might expect, every bit the tiefling anarchist. Excellent work you three.

Prose ~ 17/30

Mechanics ~ 5/10 – run on sentences abound, the primary reason for this score. Examples found in post 8:


“Simply put, we have two events coming up in the near future. The first is a tournament; a two versus two contest in which I want to put as many members as possible in the teams in order for Misery Business to have at least one champion in our organization this year. Will do wonders for our credibility.”

Post 9:


It may have seemed like a friendly gesture, but the Cager was scanning his opponent- the blonde-haired brawler caught it easily, with a confident grace, but he didn't bring it up to his lips.

To re-iterate, the opening paragraph in Ags first post:


Someone had stolen Luned's ticket while she was away in Ettermire and Agnie opted to keep her copy, as this individual of questionable character intrigued her enough into writing again; the thought of a mystery pen pal was simply titillating! The piece of paper was an exact replica of the other, upon which any marks would mirror exactly upon its twin, and through scribbles on the margins, the pair began a sort of correspondence.

Run-on sentences are not always ‘incorrect’. It is perfectly acceptable, in some circumstances, for them to be a warranted part of writing. Where they do occur, though, re-read when possible to decipher wherever or not what you have said may orate more eloquently. I am a firm believer in the Oxford Comma, and listing in that manner can break up long-winded paragraphs into ‘bite-size’ chunks. It also helps to alleviate ambiguity created when dealing with multiple movements and characters in a thread.

Minor mistakes include formatting issues, the much missed capital letter after ! or ? in dialogue, and minor issues bordering on over use of italisation and Aurelianus not spacing – correctly. (She came out the door- turned left; as opposed to she came out the door – turned left). If this is a stylistic article, you might wish to add a note or clarify why you do so (though it was a minor point I admit).

Clarity~ 5/10 – err on the side of caution with clarity. Ags, your opening sentences were disbarring. It might have been more clear to begin with ‘it all started with a note’, and then to go into exposition. The sentences themselves are long, to a fault, and this ambling flow was present in Aurelianus’ contributions; especially where description following dialogue is concerned. I appreciate simple, concrete, and short sentences are devoid of writing techniques, but it can often serve you well to stick to the basics, and then add where appropriate.

Technique ~ 7/10 – strong use of non-standard techniques, flourishes, and flair brought this brief exchange to life. I especially appreciated enjambment between the notes and Ags’ narrative in the opening post. Aurelianus, your internal thought and dialect works wonders. Zack, you make strong use of the ‘closing line’ in each post. You each have a strong grasp of literary techniques that work directly with your character’s personality and abilities, effectively; you know how to bring them to life.

Wildcard: 7/10 – this thread does exactly what it says on the tin. It was quick-witted, served a point, and I enjoyed the smarm, energy, and humour. I can see you three becoming a trio worth keeping an eye on in the future, should you wish to develop what was sadly a short introductory thread into a more developed union (and I daresay I hope you do!)

---

I would be happy to develop on the points above, or provide more in depth examples based on those notes if requested. cydneyoliver@gmail.com, or my Mordelain inbox are both appropriate avenues to do.

If you have any concerns, doubts, and worries, and don’t wish to speak to me directly for whatever reason, then I am sure another member of staff will resolve the matter on your behalf. I am perfectly amenable and open to feedback, as the judge has to develop, as much as the writer put under the scrutiny of the rubric!

Total ~ 59/100



Ags receives 300 experience and 100 gold.

Zack Blaze receives 325 experience and 125 gold.

Aurelianus Drak’shal receives 325 experience and 125 gold.

[Letho]

EXP/GP added.