Closed Forgive Me, Father

((Yisanareysin)) It's not kidnapping if they come willingly, it's not torture if nobody gets hurt.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Forgive Me, Father

Postby Madeira Dusk on October 6th, 2017, 8:12 pm

Forgive Me, Father
9th of Fall, 517
18th Bell

"You look like you could use a drink." was all Cade, the barman at the Stallion’s Rear, said in greeting to the woman that pulled herself through his door.

Madeira pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and hobbled to the bar. The click of her cane almost eclipsed the dry scrape of her dead foot dragging across the floor. Her bright blue dress and leather pack were dusty and the chignon at the back of her head was frayed. The skin showing through her modest sleeves and collar were the sickly sallow colour all of those recovering from the plague. She looked thin and shaky, yet there was a determined set to her thin lips and her pale eyes were bright. The rings on her fingers glittered icily on the bar top as she lowered herself onto a stool.

The bar was intimately small and never empty. A low babble of talk hovered in the air as dockworkers and shoremen enjoyed the end of their workday. Madeira didn't concern herself with the other patrons, and waved away the empty glass Cade put in front of her.

"I'm not here to drink, thank you. I actually have something I'd like to talk to you about."

The barman didn't seem terribly impressed to be wasting his time with an unpaying customer, but nodded for her to continue.

"I've been out all day looking for a man called Bron Quayle Junior. Do you recognize the name?"

"I know a Bron Quayle. I don't know a Junior. Why? What trouble is Bron is?"

Madeira exhaled hard through her nose. She was beginning to think the man she was looking for didn't exist. The housing office had no record of him after the Summer of 510, and she made a poor, harassed Serenity Berel check the labour records three times before accepting that he had never applied for a job. And the various clubhouses and social businesses she searched had never heard of him either. He might as well have drifted through life as a pocket of air for all the trace he was leaving behind.

"He's not in trouble." she ground her knuckle into her temple, where a headache was starting to brew. "I'm sorry to say Bron senior passed away several weeks ago. I need to talk to his son."

Cade paused to frown into the mug he was polishing. "Tis' a shame. He was a good man, generous with his tips. What do you need with his son?"

"His father would like to speak to him."

There was a tick where the Avalad seemed to grind to a halt. The wheels of his brain gummed up with that impossible thought. But a native Avalad didn't let logic get in the way of reason. After a moment he nodded, satisfied with his own conclusions as his mind came back up to speed.

"You'd be one of those Craven's, then."

"I'm Madeira, a friend of Ambrosia's. Pleasure."

They shook amiably, his large hand squeezing her boney fingers uncomfortably. Wincing as she extracted herself from his grip, she did her best to settle her expression into something gentle and sympathetic as she asked him about the recently deceased.

“Did you know Bron well?”

“Nah, not too well. He was mighty talkative when he was drunk, though.” He put down the cleanly polished mug and took two shot glasses from under the bar. He poured degtine into both and pushed one to Madeira solemnly. “To Bron!” he toasted loudly. Not wanting to offend him, Madeira touched glasses reluctantly and took the shot.

“D-did he ever talk about his son?” she sputtered as the alcohol burned down her throat.

Cade threw his own shot back and sighed with satisfaction, as if it had been a refreshing glass of water. “Like I said, never knew he had a son. He talked a lot ‘bout his ships, though. He was some high-flying merchant. He liked to buy the whole bar a drink when his boats came in.”

“Did he have a group he sat with? Drinking buddies? Anything like that?”

“Oh, he’d come in with everybody, anybody. Always up for a good time, that man. He had a preference for the company of the ladies though. Even the whor-“ he paused and glanced down at Madeira like he just noticed she was there. “He liked the ladies”, he cleared his throat loudly.

From across the room a man with a wide mouth and a lime green brocade cloak whistled and held three fingers aloft. Cade lifted his own hand in acknowledgement.

"I have to see to my patrons, now. Are you sure I can't get you a drink?"

"No, I'm ok. I'll rest here for a moment then be on my way. Thank you for your time."

He nodded and left her at the bar, after pouring and carrying out three more shots of degtine for the pleasure of the man who Madeira decided looked incredibly like a frog. The Spiritist rested her forehead on her steepled hands. How was she ever going to find the Bron Quayle Junior?
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Forgive Me, Father

Postby Yisanareysin on October 12th, 2017, 2:19 am

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Settled between a massive bear and a giant ape, Rey grinned goofily as he raised a glass. "To Laura, and her new bondmate!" He called out, adding a hint of unsteadiness to his words. The cheer was echoed around the table, and the kelvic in question beamed, draining the rest of her mug.

Rey leaned in a little. "Come on, how'd you meet her?" He wheedled. The Jamoura chuckled beside him, bouncing the bench they were sitting on slightly.

"You're awfully nosy today, Reysin." She observed.

"Not many other dhani here, so I've resorted to living through all of your romances instead." That drew a laugh from the table, and Rey grinned as Laura launched into a detailed retelling of her first meeting.

Rey had no particular interest in Laura's little love story, of course, and certainly felt no pressing need to hear about romance in general. But it endeared him to this crowd, and got them used to him asking odd questions. You couldn't cultivate crops without tending to them every once in a while, after all.

A flash of movement caught his eye. Argent, one of his contacts, caught his eye, then turned to leave the Cave. Interesting. Argent and his twin were creatures of habit, and to see one without the other, outside of their usual meeting spot, meant that whatever it was that the two wanted to tell him, it was time sensitive.

Standing, Rey took a step towards Laura, then stumbled, grabbing on to the man beside him for support. "You didn't drink that much." He laughed, setting Rey back on his feet.

"I'm-" Rey paused, swaying on the spot. He wasn't too fussed about the believability of this performance, not when all of them were massively drunk as well. "smaller." He finally declared. "I sshould go."

Waving the group a good night, Rey stumbled out of the Wolf's Cave onto the streets of Alvadas, where Argent was waiting. The moment the door swung shut behind him, he straightened up, all traces of drunkeness gone.

"Come on. There's a woman looking for someone at the Rear." Rey raised an eyebrow, but fell into step beside him, trusting the man's judgement.

"For me?"

"Not as far as we can tell. This seems like a pretty standard job, but-" Argent glanced at Rey, a complicated expression crossing his face. Rey caught interest, ambition, and a little bit of fear. "we think she's a Craven. One of the ones who.. dealt with the Silver Serpent possession."

Ah. Now that was certainly worth his time.

Rey entered the Rear alone, quickly spotting Arden at a table. "Girl to your left. Looks half ghost herself." She murmured to Rey as he slid into the seat beside her. In a matter of moments, she summarized the conversation between Madeira and Cade, keeping a nervous eye on the girl in question all the while. Rey nodded thoughtfully.

"The two of you do some digging of your own. If you find anything tonight, come tell me. If not, just drop it unless I say otherwise." And with that, they both stood, Arden heading for the door, Rey for the bar.

"Ms... Craven, is it?" He slipped into the seat beside her, and extended his hand. "Revan Casdel. Sorry to intrude, but if you're looking for someone specific-" He smiled. "I may be able to help. I imagine you'll want this situation resolved as soon as possible."


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Forgive Me, Father

Postby Madeira Dusk on October 20th, 2017, 1:50 am

Forgive Me, Father
9th of Fall
18th Bell

"Ms... Craven, is it?"

Madeira lifted her head off her hands, looking around with a start.

Sliding into the stool beside her was a small man who looked to be around her age. Long blonde hair framed a soft face and a charming smile. He extended his hand to her cordially, and she shook it automatically like a good little Craven. But she did not speak right away. The large blue eyes staring into hers were alight with strange colours she didn’t understand; both bright blue and shockingly yellow.

Her first feeling, upon this strange introduction, was the sticky, unpleasant feeling of being watched. This strange creature knew her name, knew she was looking for someone, and knew where to find her. She wasn't being particularly quiet about her quest- she had questioned nearly every business in her way. But there was some sort of retroactive itch, like she was being tailed by a gang of fleas she never noticed.

Her first thought, hot on it's heels, was Listener. But this was squashed almost instantly. A Listener would have been able to track her movements, sure. But it would take a profoundly thick Listener to introduce themselves to her so brazenly.

The pause went on for uncomfortable lengths as Madeira struggled to process what had just happened. Eventually she let go of his hand and folded her arms neatly on the bar top.

"Madeira, please." her returning smile was polite but stiff. "Are you a private investigator, Revan? I'm looking the last living Bron Quayle and, frankly, I could use the help." As baffled and uncomfortable as she was, Madeira wasn't about to throw this gift aside. Like any good Avalad she was going to praise Ionu and roll with the absurdity.

She swivelled in her stool to face him with a push of her cane. Her leg swung uselessly below her and the light from candles on the wall cut hard into her cheeks, making her look strangely hollow. She made no attempt to hide her appraisal of the man who offered to help, as her pale eyes swept over him from head to toe. She was getting nothing even remotely hostile from the short, disarmingly feminine man. Or indeed, anything at all. He looked as readable as an open book with his matter-of-fact speech and open smile, yet if asked she would find it impossible to describe anything about him besides his physical appearance.

"Name your price.” she continued respectfully, her tired eyes loosening into something almost friendly. “You're obviously talented if you already know I’m after someone. The Craven family would be honoured to hire your services."
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Madeira Dusk
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1774
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