Closed [Zastoska BH] A clean job

Fallon is trailing a target for information - to unexpected location.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

[Zastoska BH] A clean job

Postby Fallon on June 29th, 2015, 9:02 am

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40th Summer 515 AV
Mid-morning

The word stalking seemed to presently have an all new level that Fallon previously was not aware of. Sure, there was the general observation, the sly straining of ears to overhear a potentially vital conversation, there was even the act of following them about to their current lodgings and recording it on behalf of another. It was the subtle acts of espionage, to skulk about and look for clues - to even go back to said locations after and investigate without prying eyes. But this was different, and it was something that made her skin begin to crawl. While at a stall or within a store it would have been easy to hover and to appear as if browsing the goods, the same could not be said at a Bath House. If anything, to hover and not partake raised suspicion - why was she here? what was she doing? Is she waiting for something? And so paints the obvious target. Fallon's lips pursed into a line, the briefest of hovering outside the unassuming entrance of the Zastoska as she weighed up her choices.

She should have known, really, based upon the small slither of information that her client had provided. A businessman by the name of Bonce, he flittered around the offices and some social venues, but he also liked to hold some meetings within the bath house - something about establishing trust or dominance, she could not remember what exactly. Yet right now that did not matter, she had a choice to make and work upon as quickly as possible. The chimes continued to tick on, a chew upon her lip as she found herself faltering. She needed to go in there and overhear any meetings that may or may not be going on. Of course, the counter is that he could only be making arrangements for a later date and could come out at any moment. After another chime of waiting, Fallon wasted no more time and entered.

While the outside was unassuming, the interior was a stark opposite of that. Warm, though not overly so, was the first that came to mind, the scent of salts and soaps brushing against her senses. There was no music, she noticed as she stepped through, watching the shape of her target waddle away down the corridor and towards the changing rooms - towards the public baths she realised with a flicker up to the signs. One of the assistants greeted her briefly, a small offering of a collection of towels and soaps, before she was quickly whisked off towards the changing rooms. With a towel passed to her and gladly taken, the woman set about quickly preparing herself and stuffing her clothing into one of the lockers. The form was quickly covered and wrapped up after that, the quick steps leading out into the baths.

Eyes gave a sweep, her gaze flickering as she took in the open nature of the baths. Her back gave a prickle, yet the sensation was smothered by the thick layer of winding ink that covered it. She stepped, ears straining as she tried to pick out the voice of her target, the gaze searching the main pool that was letting both light and breeze travel on through. A slowed blink, she spied another man next to her target at one of the edges and so stopping short of it the woman promptly lowered herself in and listened. For a while there was silence, the gentle slurping of what sounded like tea being held above the lapping waters. On one of the other edges she could hear the gentle chastising of a mother to a child.

"So, where were we Mister Mance?" spoke Bonce in a low voice. He placed the cup upon the pool side. Fallon's ears continued straining, hands swirling the water around her as she continued to try and find a step in, "You require my assistance for something?"
"I do indeed,"
a gruffer voice, a warning brushed against her mind that the accent was distinctly not Zeltivan. And while it was clearer cut she would have associated it with a different city, "Couple of my lads are having problem filtering about into Zeltiva. Can't help themselves, rough lot they are. Need to keep them busy but in a place where we can still do what we were here for."
"So, you are looking to hire them out?"
queried Bonce, "And so came to me seeing if I required services?"
"We've done distant business in the past. But yeah, somethin' like that. This is personal, and important."
"Personal how exactly?"
She caught the glimmer of eyes sheepishly looking about before leaning over to whisper into Bonce's ear. What words were said were only met with a nod, "I see."
FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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Fallon
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[Zastoska BH] A clean job

Postby Fallon on July 28th, 2015, 5:37 pm

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Fallon's ears continued to strain, eyes narrowing down to focus upon the water surface as she tried to listen to the voices past the background noise. It was difficult, she mused to herself, to try and maintain such a facade without giving away her intentions. Listen, wait, plan, find out and hunt for the clues that her client so desperately wanted. Fingers rubbed at her eyes, the orbs flickering back and forth as a particularly loud screech from the child caused the conversation to pause in its flow. She could see Bonce merely look up, the gaze of the businessman turning to one of focus as he tried to think through the thoughts and situation behind him. The way the arms seemed to tense upon the bath side, the setting of the jaw into one of deep contemplation. Did the world merely serve as numbers to him? Was everything a figure in which values could be settled in some form of calculation? Take a bit from there and place a bit in here? What made him tick?

"Is that not a bit of a risky move for you? Especially here, in Zeltiva?"
"What you mean?"
"This is a city that has rules, laws Mister Mance. Something that I am sure you are quite aware of. Rules that you will have to follow."
"I don't follow no rules, Bonce,"
She heard the other man grunt and defensively fold his arms. Where was he from? Why was he so difficult? That accent, she knew it but could not place it. Had her ears become so rusted over the years? The grunt turned up into a snarl, "Not going to listen some piss pot either."
"So you want to swing then?"
"Do I look like I care about little threats? Where I come from those are just words. Nah, we give the action before the word. No time to pussy foot about."


The inspector narrowed her eyes, a chill running into her veins as she felt the attitude and accent click somewhere in her mind. She felt the muscles tense, the gaze look sharply away to the water as she put on a neutral face. How could she have missed such a distinctive tone. Her hand rubbed at her eyes, a low groan escaping out from her throat.

He was Sunberthian.

"Shyke," she exhaled with annoyance lacing her tone. Why was he here? What did he want? Something illegal she guessed, the immediate bias of his home city playing upon her mind. Risky move, something not safe and went against city rules. Potentially. The woman continued to chew upon her lip, the snapping back of her attention to the meeting of men.
"You'll be a dead man if you carry on like this."
"Haven't even started yet. And your words aren't going to stop me either. You gonna give me what I need or not?"
"In the name of revenge?"

There was a long moment of silence before the words hummed forth, sharp and true in tone, "Yes. In the name of revenge. I'm going to wring her neck if it's the last thing I do."
FALLON
Fallon | Coffee Codes | Skill Images

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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Fallon
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[Zastoska BH] A clean job

Postby Fallon on August 17th, 2015, 10:12 am

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Revenge, it was a poisonous thing she mused as she continued her listening. There was a brief interruption as one of the staff knelt down to tend to their tea, the gentle smiles being exchanged and making sure they were being tended to. Bonce merely gave his own returned reassuring smile before dipping his attention back down to the task at hand. He handed a bar of soap to his companion, before continuing, "You do realise what you're getting yourself into, right?"
"Very much. Gonna be worth it though."
"Being killed or exiled is worth it? Really? Has revenge just driven you blind?"
Fallon rubbed at her eyes, a heavy weight starting to rest in her stomach as she tried to listen, "These are the words of madness. Madness I tell you!"
"Sometimes the mad have to do things to find their peace. I ain't gonna find it back there and the world won't wait for me. So, time to get my hands dirty on it."


Dirty hands, she knew that meant more than simply staining oneself - it was to do the deed and make sure it was done right. Her time as a mercenary ensured that those key words were imbedded into her skull. Her eyes flickered again across the way to the men, eyes scanning for distinctive features this time on the face of this 'Mance'. Dark shadows beneath his eyes, an unkempt layer of beard, wiry and dark. She may have spied hints of grey peeking through from this distance - but she would be only able to confirm that on closer inspection. His skin was murky olive colour, covered in pox marks around the tops of his cheeks and his nose turned to one side - broken in the past perhaps? The orbs flickered, lowering down to the shoulders and the faded ink of blurred tattoos - mainly consisting of women wearing little clothing. Far from tasteful she mentally noted, before slipping her gaze away. There was letters on his knuckles too - she noted - spelling out the word 'Good' and "Evil' in some calligraphy styled script.

Fallon's gaze peeled away, her finger and thumb rubbing together with thought as the men continued their talking, "That's why I'm here though. And I'm going to get my way with or without your help. You, nor the guard are going to stop me until it's all done. Understand me?"
"I... yes Mister Mance,"
the voice darkened. Her gaze looked to Bonce only briefly to see the nervous chew upon his lip. He was worrying about it, and she could not blame him for the level of concern that had taken to his face. It was a dangerous game, one where he would have to calculate and think carefully upon - and in private. He clicked his fingers to one of the ladies and gestured for a towel, his voice dropping to a hiss to the other man, "Come. We'll talk more about this in my office."
"When?"
"Right now. Come on."
FALLON
Fallon | Coffee Codes | Skill Images

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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Fallon
The Red Wolf
 
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[Zastoska BH] A clean job

Postby Fallon on August 27th, 2015, 2:08 pm

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Fallon's gaze did not rest on them for too long, the orbs flickering away as she heard the sounds of sloshing water and the grunting of one attempting to dry themselves. It was with just a flicker to watch the direction that the men had gone - the direction of the male changing rooms - that Fallon gestured for her own towel. Whatever they were discussing was beyond her for the moment, but that did not mean she should dally in her waiting. She barely managed to grasp upon one of the towels from the attendant before she was off and making a quick beeline to the lockers. Skin was patted down, fingers and cloth being pulled about. It was a fight to tug the clothing on and over with speed, equipment being strapped on and the damp edges being quickly tugged back for ease.

Gloves tugged into place, the inspector made a hasty escape out of the changing rooms, eyes scanning as she entered the main room once more. Her eyes flickered, the greeter giving her only a smile before returning to whatever it was she was doing behind the desk. There was no immediate sign of the men, her gaze set to flickering once more, counting. How long had she been away from them? Had she been too slow? Or were they still in there? If she went outside, would she have to hover about waiting for some sign of them? How would that be achievable without drawing suspicion? Her lips gave a purse, a small, polite nod of thanks to the greeter before she was out once more on the street.

Her head turned, looking at the flowing crowd, eyes staring at the backs of heads and clothing to try and pick the target out. Nothing, nowhere. She gave a curse, quickly dipping across the way and into the shadow of another building, her form sliding into the narrow alleyway as she peered back out. How long could she afford to wait? How much was too long? The woman chewed at her lip. Five chimes? Ten chimes? They may be talking and thus take longer. Her gaze hovered, settling upon the door and then the people who moved on pass. Where were they? What were they doing? How long would it be?

There was the hushed talk as she caught the glimpse of the men peel out, the Sunberthian more shabbily dressed than the Zeltivan counterpart. Bonce was leading the way, hands tightly clasped behind his back and his gaze set forward, with Mance hunched in, defensive, keeping the eyes on who was around. The pair were taking a quick pace away from the coast and in land. She peeled out after them, her head low, hands resting in her pockets, the slip back and forth between the people. She could barely hear what they were saying, and suggesting by the body language it was very little anyway.

Watching them cross the main street she wove her way through the crowd, following them up to the right turning. Where were they going? An office? Perhaps it was near her own in the Old Quarter, it seemed that way for the moment. She looked upwards, attempting to pick out a name for the street and to gauge where she was in the city. It was with a sharp step into a door way, watching as they shifted towards one of the buildings. Peering at it she watched the men gather around the front, the rummaging for keys before Bonce once more spoke, "In here, upstairs. No one followed us?"
"Not that I can tell."


Her gaze turned up to the front of the building, eyes scanning and picking out the features. She saw the sign hanging on the front, the picking out of another set of offices above. Different fronts, curtains drawn for some, the movement of shadows behind others. She watched the men push the front door open, the rest of her form peeling out as the men entered with a mutter of words catching her ears, "Upstairs, second on the right. Come on."

The form stuck to the wall, watching the door begin to close as the door, her fingers brushing against the surface of the wood. Beyond the footsteps continued their thudding, leading up the stairs with the rattle of keys. Peering through the slither of a gap she tucked her form through, catching the shapes of feet clunk as they moved up the stairs. Soon, she would have the beginnings of the information she needed.
FALLON
Fallon | Coffee Codes | Skill Images

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
User avatar
Fallon
The Red Wolf
 
Posts: 2062
Words: 2242110
Joined roleplay: January 21st, 2013, 4:24 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 9
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Artist (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) Power Fork (1)
2013 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)


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