[Ignotus Everto] Success in Circuit Lies

by **Philomena** on February 3rd, 2013, 8:55 pm

18th of Fall, 480AV
The Streets of Zeltiva, near the Orphanage
Early evening
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It was beginning to grow late, but Minnie and Lanie were not heading back yet. There was a full bell, sometimes a bell and a half, until supper at the orphanage, and that would give them time, hopefully, to look for something to augment the meagre meal they'd be eating.

Minnie sighed. The best places, of course, had been picked over - the fish-markets with their bones and heads that could be sucked for protein, the tavern, where the spent ends of the stewpots could be begged off the sculleries sometimes. Minnie and Lanie were neither of them very tall - all they were was clever. So, they had gone to the bakery.

Bakeries could, of course, be regular jackpots on the right day - if the wood was set too high, one might find four or five whole burnt loaves thrown into the ash-heap. But then, if a baker's apprentice found himself unable to build a proper fire, he was beat into learning quickly enough, so this was a rare occurence. Minnie, one day, had come up with their great plan - to follow the rats. The rats were their rivals, of course, for food. But then, a rival is simply a bellweather not yet fully understood. And they had noticed the rats crawling always just under the foundation where the hearth-stone sat. Lanie - narrower and stronger - had gone under at Minnie's suggestion that night - and found a trove. There, beneath the ovens, were the scrapings - the bits and corners of crumbs and crust that stuck to the baking stones, scoured off dry in order not to waste a well-trip. It was liberally mixed with ash and dirt, of course, but then, if a girl was hungry enough, and a proper bucket of well-water was obtained, this grist could be washed down with the rest. Minnie had almost grown fond of it - the ash, perhaps, didn't do much in the way of nutrition, but it gave the belly a feeling of wonderful fullness.

After that first time, it was Minnie who went under, for Lanie made a much better lookout, and the bakers, if they found them there, would most likely beat them - there was no real reason, but then, as often as not, one hardly needed a reason to beat n orphan, especially one filthy with soot. And besides, this was not the worst danger, for crawling in and out of the foundation took time, and if the smoke began to curl up from the chimney, time would quickly disappear - the stones of the hearth, by the time they grew hot enough to sense, would likely be too hot to escape from.

So it was Minnie who found herself under the house. She had a bit of a discarded tin plate, ragged on side from being snipped for a window patch (where, of course, they had stolen it from), but deep enough for their work. This was a good day. The plate was mounded heavily, and not just with crumbs - with chunks! She began snaking her way out, her skirt pulling up around her waist, her legs black with soot, and her face, she was sure, even blacker. Lanie always laughed to see her come out, and she did so today.

Lanie, for her part, sat atop the baker's fence, on a worn round post, watching intently. She was a narrow girl, and their time, now, working together to gether scraps had taken some of the dry sallowness from her skin. And the thinness accentuated her best feature - her eyes. They were deep, and lovely, and terribly pitiful.

"Anything good, Mins?"

Minnie smiled, balancing the plate in her hands with glee, "There's 'alf a biscuit in there, with real seaberries baked into it! And some fritter-ends that are only half kelp."

Lanie rubbed her hands with glee, "Oh, gods, I'm starving! Come on, come on! We'll wash up afterward!"

So, they sat there on the flags behind the baker, and Minnie dipped the corner of her soot-black skirt into the water, just to wipe her lips off and dab at her dust-dry tongue, then smacked her hands together, a picture of the street savage, with her tousled hair, and ash pit eyelids, the whites glaring out from them in contrast. Lanie sat across from her, and almost daintily reached into the pile, "Can I--"

"Take it, Lanes! The biscuit? I got it for you!"

by **Ignotus Everto** on February 5th, 2013, 1:12 am

Minnie and Lanes were not the only ones prowling the streets tonight. Presently, a rather ill intentioned man of forty or so years was searching for a very different sort of sustenance, for a very different sort of lass. The witch Evalin had been rather clear with what she wanted, and while it would not have been impossible to convince her to forgo her little snack, it would be better for him in the long run to simply oblige.

Of course, Ignotus Everto was not a foolish man, and while he could choose any old girl as Evalin's victim, it would be prudent to select one that would not be missed. So it was straight to the orphanage. Or rather, around the orphanage. Judging by the hour, and Ignotus' own empty stomach, now would be the time that most street urchins would be out scrounging around for something to eat. If they had already ducked into the orphanage for dinner, so much better, as that would only leave the truly pitiful to prey on. Someone not even an overworked maid would miss.

For trapping, all Ignotus brought with him was a loaf of bread he had snatched up from the University, and his own wits. In his mind, they would be plenty. As luck would have had it, he spotted himself two adorable little ash-demons attempting to dig into some poor excuse for a biscuit. Now, that simply wouldn't do... One of them especially, a scrawny little creature with the cutest little eyes struck Ignotus as potentially delightful for Evalin's palate... If she cleaned up a little. But he was digressing. Why should they eat some sort of soot soup, when he had such a delicious alternative?

"Ho there, little ones." Ignotus said with a smile and a wave of delicious, delicious bread. "Isn't it a little early to be pitching into ash piles?"

A soft puff of hypnotic Djed emanating from the wizard served to turn their attention towards the warm, fluffy food in his hand, and (hopefully) away from anything else, such as the question of why a complete stranger was walking around with an uneaten loaf of bread.

by **Philomena** on February 5th, 2013, 2:02 am

The orphan learns two parts of the intellect - the brain, and the instinct. The instinct, of course, of the two orphans draws up first - this is, after all, the purpose of instinct. Minnie snatches up the ash-crumble, defensively, prepared to run - they'll lose most of it if they do, she knows, but if she can get her hand clamped atop the heap, well... perhaps she can at least save the larger, tastier morsels. Lanie for her part reaches to her waist, where a good stout stick is wound into tattered sash. She draws it slowly out.

Oh... but then there is that secret third member of the intellect - the gut. And the gut is the sister of the eyes. And the eyes of both girls, the wide lovely ones of Lanie, and the black-smeared, soot-blooded eyes of Minnie, train on the bread - it is not hunger, it is not even desire anymore. The bread, the rich, white bread... that is an object of pure, unadulterated lust. Lanie's breath quickens, Minnie's mouth opens and closes like a languid fish.

Only then can the brain sufficiently spin up its resources to offer advice - and the opening to a hypnotist. These children are so insignificant, its not likely any mage would ever have even the least of reasons to bother with hypnotizing them. There only defense is the gnomic, peculiar twists of their miseducated psyches, hard to read perhaps to an arrogant young wizard, but to an old, savvy master of a hypnotist? Putty, more than likely. Not, again, that they need a great deal of help focusing on the bread. Lanie visually calculates distances, the apparent strength of the mans grip, the chance of egress, the alertness of Minnie, such that she would start running if Lanie grabbed the loaf and ran.

Minnie has a different intellect, not the fierce intellect of the straightforward warrior, but the winding, slow snake's intelligence of the runty, weak child.

"You're not a baker, 'en, Mister, you don't look it anyway. What skin off your teeth is it?"

Her words were directed to the loaf of bread, as much as the man's face. He could probably have 8 inch fangs, and she would not necessarily notice. But this is not to say the brain is shut DOWN per se - she doesn't find it odd that the bread is here, the little massage of her frontal lobe ensure that. But, much like Lanie, she begins to plot how she might acquire it - and a man accosting wormy, smut-stained orphans with a loaf of bread? Such a man WANTS to give the bread. For some reason. Charity, need, something.

Minnie puts on a smile. IT might have been sweet and child=like, if she had not been both a poor actress and covered in smut, "Wotcher out looking' for this evening, sir?"

by **Ignotus Everto** on February 14th, 2013, 3:33 am

"Very true, my dears." the man replied, "Indeed, I was hoping to meet such lovelies as yourselves. See, I happen to be a painter, and I have wished for quite a while to capture the plight of the poor, the dispossessed, the..." another puff of Djed, emotion this time. A certain attitude imposed upon the youngsters from a higher power. But imposed was the wrong word... Ignotus could not impose anything. He was an accomplished Hypnotist, though not a spectacular one, and though he could not force anything on anyone, he could... Suggest.

In this case, disinterest. Who cared about the dispossessed? Who cared about the painter? No, it was his promise, that mouthwatering loaf in his hand that mattered. That, however, was not Ignotus' doing. If they would think of the bread, it would be of their own volition. It wasn't a force that smothered and suffocated opposition, that hijacked another's senses. It was much more akin to a morning mist kissing their skin. Leaving nary but a faint film of moisture to mark its passing. Of course, a little moisture could become something much more, under the right circumstances.

With a feigned expression of surprise, Ignotus stopped himself with a small jump, "Oh, but you're not concerned with the plight of the impoverished, am I right? So I'll cut to the chase. I need a model." a quick tug at the girls' subconscious, a reminder of the romantic image of an artist's model... Just to sweeten the deal. "And you two seem simply fantastic. It's not without its pay, of course..." a nod towards the bread. "What say you?"

Evalin had asked for one, but what was a bit of overachieving now and then?

by **Philomena** on February 14th, 2013, 4:15 am

The hungry child's limited viewpoint makes a suggestion of indifference to anything but food remarkably simple. And the offer seems... so straightforward. And the bread makes everything seem straightforward, now doesn't it? The smell of bread has a hypnotic power for greater than any movement of djed.

Lanie rubbed her mouth, her lips smacking, her eyes entranced. The sick rolling grumble of her stomach is audible from across the alleyway. Clearly, Lanie is not the level-headed one, for she goes so far as to stand, to take a step forward.

Minnie would perhaps have been the same, but for that tug, that miniscule pull, murmuring 'model! You could be an artist's model!'

Minnie knew a bit about this - so did Lanie if she could stop her rampant breadlust. There was Dorry Higgs, who had left the orphanage to be an artist's 'model' and ended up a pregnant suicide after the bloke roughed her up one too many times. That feeling of romance, that sense of one's own potential in a muse had a long anchor cable, and that anchor cable, for Minnie was fouled.

"You a Uni bummy? We ain't gunny be takin' our clothes off or nothing."

And then... well perhaps that's it, more than simple wariness. The way Minnie stands, and puts an arm around Lanie, draws her back, not quite protectively. Possessively. Jealously, almost. //Lanie's mine, you percher.// Her eyes mumble this, only half aware of their own mumbling, //I know what love is, its all your friends gone, and you flopping underneath some hairy drunk man with impulse issues. You keep your hands off my dear one.//

by **Ignotus Everto** on February 15th, 2013, 3:49 am

Minnie's assertions to her and Lanie's chastity netted a deep laugh from the artiste before them. A laugh that sent soothing ripples from its source. "No, no, you misunderstand me! I want you both quite clothed. Indeed, if I had my paints and easel, I'd be tempted to start right this second! You shan't have to remove a sock, nor have to tidy up or anything. All that's necessary is to be yourselves, and try not to move too much."

It was a curious property of Ignotus' voice. With a simple word, he could alter a person's mood as easily as a painter dashing an azure sea onto his canvas. Quite fitting, considering the mood he was now attempting to impart upon the two youngsters was calm. It was silly to be jealous. There was nothing to be jealous about! Besides, they could eat...

by **Philomena** on February 15th, 2013, 4:20 am

Lanie turned with all the mournfulness of unfulfilled desire to stare at Minnie, "White bread, Mins. We can be careful. Its nae diff 'en when the 'natomy doffers made us stand in our skivs, idn't it?"

Minnie frowned, stared at the man - there is somethign delicious about hating someone out of love for someone else, it is part of what makes jealousy so dangerous - it is a fuel, and the flame is intense and powerful and pleasant in a sick way.

//Come on Mins... who you really care about here? Lanie has to eat. You know she needs to eat. This ashpot gives as much o the shykes as it does substance.//

Minnie bit her lip, hard, and wiped a hand over her face, a hand with a broken nail falling off of the pointer finger. The ash smeared greasily over her brow.

"Why you want us? Mins I can understand, but I'm as ugly as a cat in a dogfight, and it is nae just the grease. No use denying it, we're stupid orphans, but we dunny get s'far wi'out knowing what a mizas worth in bread. ARe you gunny just tell me you thought you'd stroll through the drunky-pens tonight and 'ope you 'appened on some ugly rotter-kids from the Kennel?"

Her words were hard, full of bravado. But she was hungry, and more than this, her eyes flickered back and forth to Lanie's unnatural bloating around the stomach, and transmitted concern as clearly as the call of a hunting hawk. She was nervous, btu she was, clearly, growing more convinceable.

by **Ignotus Everto** on February 16th, 2013, 4:57 am

Ignotus nodded thoughtfully, tilted his head this way, tilted his head that way, and said in a rather deadpan tone, "Yes. Yes I did. So, let's have at it!"

A little extra nudge. Just a little push. A soft prodding at the back of Minnie's mind. Go for it. What's there to lose? The bread was its own Hypnotism- It needed no complimenting. Ignotus was having difficulty disguising his delight. He was so close... In a half-bell, they'd be Evalin's dinner, and he'd be immortal! The suspense was simply killing him.

by **Philomena** on February 16th, 2013, 5:10 am

Minnie frowned, looking at Lanie again, her mind feeling... strange, this mixture of happy-go-lucky daring that felt... foreign. She was never daring! And then the concern, the worry over Lanie's belly. And yet... yes... why not? The man coudl do something, sure, but there were two of them, and they had been out of worse scrapes. She frowned, but began to nod. Until she was interrupted.

"What's is, 'en, bitchlets?" The voice was high and smooth, but with a sneer that made only the connosieur know that it was beautiful. It came from a girl, thin and mean-faced, but with a blooming beauty swelling through a pert, teenage breast, through the slight swelling of hips, through the senuousness of a neck kept slender by years of enforced dieting. In her hands she had a knobbed stick, clearly heavy at the knob end, which she twirled thoughtfully, "The little pups found me a snack, mmm? Whats in our puppy food today, then?"

And she stopped, looked at the other man, consternation crossing her face. She too saw the white bread, and saw a man much better dressed than she was used to seeing her young proteges conversing with.

"Well then, Lanie," she had once been other than an orphan, and still knew how to sound respectable when the occasion warranted, "What's this? Why don't you and Minnie introduce me to your friend, here?"

Lanie frowned irritably at the older girl, pulling back. Her eyes composed profanities infinitely nastier than 'petch' or 'shyke', but she said nothing. No bread today, clearly. Her shoulders slumped. Minnie frowned as well, turning her ash-smeared body protectively - the strange man was no longer the primary threat. The girl was, now.

by **Ignotus Everto** on February 17th, 2013, 2:38 am

The alpha bitch's appearance caused a very different sort of reaction in Ignotus. Having had a very... Let's say, similar, experience with big burly children of poor circumstance, the wizard wrinkled his nose the moment he heard her begin her tirade. While at another time, he would likely punctuate her list of demands by setting her on fire, he had a very different idea now. Let the two girls live. They weren't quite as choice as this bully anyways, and they would thank him later. She would bleed instead, and he would have rid the world of another dysfunctional element. His only regret was that her death would be quick.

"Now that's not very ladylike behavior, now is it?" Ignotus said with a smile that didn't completely disguise the predatory gleam in his eyes.
"I'm an artist who was looking for a model... But clearly, I've just found one."

In a way, it was slightly strange how, when one was observing instead of being part of Ignotus' art, his victims seemed to grow so... Daft. The older girl didn't ask any questions, didn't wonder why she was being looked at in such a way, simply swelled up like a rooster and hopped over to the man's side. She even stuck her tongue out at the two youngsters! "Step aside rats, let a real girl go on canvas." Ignotus, on the other hand, tore the loaf of bread in two and tossed one half to Lanie.

"I suppose you two will just have to wait until some other time..." he said in a mock-disappointed tone, winking at the pair for good measure. And with that, he turned on his heel and beckoned the older girl to follow. If they let him, in a couple chimes, he and the girl both would turn a corner and vanish from view. The last thing the other orphan said before disappearing was, "So what kind of artist are you?"

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