Closed Tinnie in a Haystack

[Noven]

Winter, Day 10, 513AV

Brega was, as always, utterly enchanting. Long legs, full bust, hair piled high with an artful touch of tousles, her dress elegant and hugging her figure in all the right places. Every movement the woman made oozed with grace and tempting suggestions. She was, quite possibly, the most alluring thing in Sunberth.

When she appeared at his apartment that morning, all warm smiles and unearthly beauty, Noven stared at her through groggy eyes.

Then he slammed the door in her face.

Her persistent banging and pleading drew him back, if only to threaten to toss her down the stairs if she didn't stop with the ridiculous racket. It wasn't even past the seventh bell, and Noven was not a morning person. He wasn't, in fact, even an afternoon person. Bad enough that he had to spend every other day beating people black and blue in the blood pits, watching some worm or other thrash about in pain. Now, he had to deal with a very loud, very determined Mistress of Happy Endings as well.

Nov clawed at his face. This couldn't be more of a shyke morning. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair, then swung open his door, mouth full of his most creative and acidic curses. The words died on his tongue, however, as Madam Brega spread both her slender, laced arms against the entrance and uttered a single word: "Tinnie."

It didn't exactly shock the cook to hear her name, but it gave Brega her chance to snake her way past him and into the confines of his spartan little apartment.

"I'll never understand why you live in such squalor," she sighed as she sauntered into his home. With a roll of his eyes, Noven shut the door and turned to face the wily woman, his arms crossed over his chest.

Brega sashayed toward his glowering figure, close enough he could smell her floral perfume. She smiled that special smile of hers as she ran her laced fingers across one of his arms. "With your talents, you could earn enough to buy your own estate within a season. I have quite a few wealthy clients who are entirely too fond of pain."

"For the last time, Brey," Nov growled, jerking away from her touch. "that kind of pain is not something I can control, and not anything anyone would wish to experience twice. Just tell me what you want and get gone."

"Ooh," Brega shivered, moaning a little, "I do like it when you call me that."

For the briefest of moments, Nov's eyes flicked from the goddess before him to his bed. Only a moment. Then his gaze narrowed and he refocused on the pesky whore once more. "I swear to all the gods, if you're using your black magic on me again I will gut you right where you stand."

The woman tsked, waggling one lacy finger before him. "A promise is a promise, my dear, sweet Nov. You know I haven't hypnotized you with anything other than what you see."

Brega winked, then turned her back on him to stare out of a window with more grace than any single women ought to possess. "Tinnie's missing again," she explained offhandedly, almost as if she were commenting on the weather. "I know, not particularly alarming or uncharacteristic. But it's the events leading up to her disappearance that have me perturbed."

Slipping something out of her pockets, the mistress handed Noven a sheet of thick paper. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized it was a drawing of Tinnie done with remarkable skill and likeness. Rare, to see such a lovely work of art in Sunberth without it somehow involving nudity and unlimited forms of debauchery.

Drawing :

"What does this have to do with anything?" he questioned.

Brega turned back to the window, a worried look marring her lovely features. "If my guesses are right, Nov, everything. Before she went missing, I noticed she was getting more customers. Not complaining, mind you, but it was sudden and unexplained. More people seemed to recognize her as well, even the nonclients."

"So, what? She's into a bit of smut," Nov shrugged. "Plenty of girls are. A little drawing here and there, some with less modesty than others. It pays them more than enough to keep them as happy as their admirers."

"Yes, I won't deny that," Brega responded, "but this is Tinnie we're talking about. She's no fresh bud without a lick of worldiness about her. The girl understands how these things work. Reputation takes time, patience, and care. Why, with her already solid stream of customers, would she go and blow herself up like that?"

Nov chewed on this for a moment. She was right, of course, but that still didn't justify her coming in person at the crack of dawn. And to him, of all people. "Why are you really here, Brey?" he sighed. "Just tell me. I don't have time for these games. If I can help, I'll help. If I can't, then I can't. And I ain't doin' nothin' for free. Winter's been hard enough as it is."

Brega cracked a smile, though it was somewhat strained. "No games, Nov. I'm just worried. Very, very worried. Tinnie was one of the favorites. Without her, we're going to see a whole lot more blue bodies lying around this season. And don't tell me you've forgotten Dina. Tinnie would never leave her daughter alone for so long."

This got his attention. "How long?"

"Four days."

-----Two bells later-----

Noven stood in front of the House of Happy Endings, staring distastefully at the over abundance of armed thugs through the open doors. He glanced at Arlana to see if she was maybe having second thoughts, then proceeded to enter the noisy building. No time quite like the present.

"Move aside, boys," Nov muttered to the surly goons, "official business with the Mistress herself." They didn't exactly part in awe and deference, as he had somewhat hoped, but at least they let the pair of newcomers through.

When they reached the third floor where most of Brega's employees lived, Nov headed straight for Tinnie's room. A thug was guarding it, as was expected, but he seemed to have orders to let them enter upon arriving. He stepped aside, allowing the two hired sleuths to walk in without a fuss. Once inside, Nov shut the door behind him and circled the tiny space, looking for any clues to Tinnie's whereabouts.

"Let me know if you see anything that stands out," he instructed. "Anything at all. We need to figure out if she was in any kind of danger or just out fenangling...or whatever it is that she does in her spare time."

It was a little shameful, really, that he was so ignorant of her comings and goings. But Noven had stopped fretting over Tinnie and her defiant ways a long, long time ago. The last thing he'd expected to do was pick that habit up again.

"Thanks, by the way," he grudgingly acknowledged, "for helping. I don't know what any of this womanly shyke is."

He held up a round, puffy thing that rained powder as soon as he'd lifted it and looked at Arlana with helpless confusion.

[Arlana]

When she heard someone calling out to her outside her apartment, rousing from the warm embrace of sleep. How many bells of sleep had she managed to get? Arlana wasn't even sure what time it was. It took another chime to realize that she recognized the voice calling out to her. By the gods, if it was anyone else, she would've punched him in the face. With a groan, the young woman peeled herself off the bed.

Of course, typically, a break-in wouldn't cost anyone that much energy. But Arlana had to let her djed worked for bells as she maintained a morphed face. It wasn't strictly necessary - using a false face - but it was the only time she could practice and when she did, she felt slightly closer to her father. Hastily, she had opened the door and demanded Noven wanted in a morning - as far as she could tell, he wasn't an early riser either.

Her thoughts were still clouded by sleep as he talked and all Arlana get was that they were looking for a girl, one of the workers a brothel. For some reason, she had said yes and lazily changed into a more appropriate attire.

It was another cold winter day. Arlana had glared resentfully at the man as she tugged her leather gloves into place. They weren't exactly in their best shape, after used for all that rope rappelling and climbing, but it was the only pair she got and she would loathe it if she had to buy a new one. The burglar followed closely behind Noven, still wondering if he was actually serious or just messing with her.

The fact that they finally stood in front of the doors of the House of Happy Endings probably meant he was being serious. "Visiting the brothel in the middle of the morning. Lovely." Big men stood guarding the doors inside, but they parted when Noven declared that they were sort of hired by Brega. Arlana's eyebrow still arched to that, though. How did Noven get involved in this?

Without a moment to waste, Noven headed towards the third floor, which was lined with doors. Arlana was sure she didn't really want to know what lied behind them. Then, they entered a small room. A woman's bedroom, that much was obvious. Immediately, Arlana walked over to the drawers. Some women hid their valuables between their clothes - she had enough experience in raiding bedrooms to know that. Opening one, she was greeted by . . . an interesting looking piece of clothing. She wasn't even sure it could be called clothing, really. Arlana doubted it had enough fabric to cover anything.

"Thanks, by the way, for helping. I don't know what any of this womanly shyke is."

Arlana waved his gratitude away. "No problem. Still, you owe me for disturbing my beauty sleep." On a second thought she added, her arm sweeping dramatically around the room, "Though I never thought you're the sort of person to be involved in all of this. Not mention you seemed to know the way here well enough." Noven hadn't hesitated to go in this room, not even stopping to ask anyone. She would have to guess that he was familiar with premise.

Noven had busied himself with some cosmetic items. "That one is called a powder-puff."

She moved over to a nightstand, her eye catching the glint of jewelry. "You sure it's a good idea to bring me here?" Arlana picked up golden bracelet from the table, eyeing it carefully. It's worth quite a fortune. Never would've thought prostitution was a good business to be in. It was not her style, though. "I have a tendency to grab shiny things and stuff it down my pocket."

[Noven]

Noven knew sooner or later Arlana was going to ask him questions. His issue, however, was not providing answers, but figuring out what the answers ought to be in the first place. He'd known the petite burglar since the first day she had set foot inside Sunset's orphanage, but they weren't exactly best pals who shared each and every secret with one another. Hell, he was willing to bet her secrets were piled just as high as his, and as deep in the shadows of obscurity and half truths, too.

Well, he didn't have to tell her everything. Not yet, anyway.

"Like I said," he replied nonchalantly, "You'll be handsomely compensated. Half of everything Brega pays me for getting this job done."

Nov cringed a little internally at his own statement. Arlana was probably better off than he, what with her chosen career that she was now currently itching to exercise, no doubt. But it was only fair, especially given what he was about to ask her to do next. He fumbled a bit in his pockets and handed her the drawing.

"Tinnie apparently got herself into the business of smut. She used to say she was above such things, that the very idea of having her body in the hands of every dirtbag and vile scum of Sunberth was creepy. She liked being able to pick who got to see her naked and who didn't." Nov cleared his throat a bit, trying his best to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks. Oh, Tinnie was a choosy one, alright. She was an unrivaled favorite, with her supple figure, red hair, and sparkling green eyes. The girl had chosen him, amongst several others. Sometimes, she even let him visit for free. He was pretty sure he was more than a little smitten with her, once upon a long, long time ago. But then she had Dina, and all of that changed.

"Point being," he continued, "people have strong...opinions when it comes to this stuff. More than a few women ruined their reputations with smut, and not half of them were even whores. Jealous wives sometimes get a nasty word in or two. Maybe even some hair pulling or scratching. But jealous husbands..."

Nov quirked an eyebrow at his partner with a knowing look. Then he went over to a cupboard--the only cupboard in the room--, knocked twice, and sat back on his heels to wait. A few ticks later, there was a shuffling sound from within and a tiny, pale hand slid open the door. A pair of large, dark eyes stared out, set in a sweet face framed by a mass of wispy brown locks.

The girl took one glance at the cook and scrambled out, throwing her stubby arms around his neck. Smiling, he patted her on the back before tucking on arm under her bottom and hoisting her up. She looked over his shoulder at Arlana with shy curiosity as Nov fished around for a clean spoon. "Alright, Dina, time to eat," he huffed as he set her down on a rickety old table. Then he took out a small jar from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and handed both it and the spoon to the girl. Dina began gobbling it up with gusto as though she hadn't eaten for days, her legs swinging merrily over the table as she inhaled the jar's contents.

Nov sighed. "Aye, Tinnie is a mother, and a married one, at that. She keeps Dina mostly secret, afraid her clients would be turned off by the idea. Or turned on, if you catch my drift."

His teeth clenched for a tick before he continued, "When I found out Tinnie married herself to a Daggerhand, I almost took off right then and there to murder the good for nothing piece of shyke. But she begged me not to, said that he was kind to her. And, that she was pregnant."

"Course," he sighed, watching Dina lick the rim of the now empty jar, "no one knows who the father is. Could even be me, for all we know. Think we look anything alike?"

He glanced back at his accomplice with a grin and shrugged. "Either way, Tinnie refused to let me help. She insisted she take care of everything herself. And then she stopped letting me visit. I only come by when she's gone, to make sure Dina is doing alright."

At this, the girl beamed at Nov, her feet crossed as she held out the empty jar to him. He took it back with a smile and ruffled her hair. "She visits her husband every now and then, but that's all I know. Someone must know something, though, and I'm willing to bet that someone is the artist who drew her picture. And...well, that's kind of why you're here. I don't know about any of my ideas being good so far, but they're the only ones I got." He turned to face Arlana, his mouth set in a serious line. "I know you don't want anything to have to do with this sort of business but...you're the only I know who can get access to this information. One of Tinnie's fellow, er, employees must know who makes the drawings. If you could maybe weasel a name out of someone. You know, chum it up, or whatever is girls do..."

He looked at Arlana hopefully, his expression sincere and grim even as Dina began climbing up onto his back and swinging from his shoulders.

"Oh," he added, bearing the child's monkey like behavior without so much as batting a lash, "and you can take that bracelet. Her husband gave it to her. Likely filched it himself, and none too kindly from its previous owner."

Nov gave a toothy grin. "And I'm sure there'll be more of those lying about the other girls' rooms. If ya know what I mean."

[Arlana]

With ease, Arlana plucked the drawing out of his hand and sat on the bed as she scrutinized it, letting her bag drop heavily on its surface. It was a picture of a lovely woman with short red hair, painted with excruciating detail that she wondered if she could study the model through a mere drawing. Probably not. Arlana was nowhere near that skilled, and besides, it usually took her days of stalking a person in order to learn every joint in their body and their mannerism. She had to admit, though, whoever drew this had quite a talent.

"A smut? Interesting." The girl couldn't help smirking as she watched Noven's face coloring. Clearly, he had more than one dealings with the woman called Tinnie. Her eyes swept across the room once again, trying to discern anything important. Everything seemed to be neat and in order, so it probably meant Tinnie encountered no problem in this room. "Though it's a bit odd, isn't it? If she truly thinks that this" - she lifted the piece of drawing and shook it slightly - "is not a good idea. Why did she do it?"

The dark-haired burglar walked over to the vanity table and sat in front of the mirror. Scattered across the table was a variety of cosmetic items of every color. Arlana didn't even hesitate as she rummaged through everything - violating someone's privacy was her daily job. "I suppose you're worried that this husband of hers might kill her and toss her into some dark alley?" If the Daggerhand's involved, it wouldn't be surprising if it did happen. They weren't exactly the sharing kind.

Arlana wasn't sure what Noven was doing as he knocked at the cupboard, but she certainly didn't expect for a little girl to shuffle out and wrapped him in a small hug. A kid in a whorehouse? She doubted it was the best place to raise a child. But she kept it to herself. After all, the Orphanage was not exactly a sanctum either. She would know that. "You said she's been gone for four days, right? So who took care of Dina all that time? He or she must know something."

Finding nothing worthy of note, Arlana straightened and walked over to the table where Dina was sitting. She couldn't help thinking that the girl was pretty calm, regarding everything. Arlana remembered how she had freaked out when her father didn't come home that night. She wanted to go look for him, but he had told not to leave the tent unless he came back. She was truly scared when he never came back, crying herself to sleep. Then again, she had never been left by her father before.

When the little girl, Dina, looked up to her, Arlana found herself smiling slightly at the innocence on her chubby face. With the dark hair and dark eyes, Dina certainly didn't look like the woman on the picture as much as she did Noven. "She might as well be your own daughter by the looks of it." It was hard to miss the adoration and trust Dina's glittered with as he looked at him. She wondered if that's how she looked at her own father.

Lips pulled to a smirk, Arlana looked up at the friend of hers. "So let me get this straight: you want me to fish out information from the other girls with my charm alone?" Even as she talked, Arlana found herself planning her course of action. Baiting gossips were not a foreign concept to her. She was not exactly a smooth talker, but she never needed to be. A little smile boosted with her magic usually would loosen up people who aren't so secretive. Though, it worked mostly on men.

"Alright, fair enough," she decided as her hands snatched the golden bracelet from the nightstand. She might as well use the chance to snag anything she could get her hands on. Arlana would bet that prostitutes would own a handful of jewelries. She never really thought about it before, but now that she did, it wasn't the worst idea. "You know which is Tinnie's friend or something?"

[Noven]

Relief overwhelmed him when Arlana agreed to do what he had asked. He was terrible at wooing women, knowing only when the heat of the moment came and not how to subtly bring it about. Arlana, on the other hand, always seemed to be able to cajole even the tightest lips to share a secret or the stingiest of folk to do a favor. Perhaps it was because of her pleasing looks.

Or perhaps she had more tricks up her sleeves than Nov cared to think about. Whatever the case, it was a useful gift now, and one he would rather employ without looking too closely for the time being.

"Good," he nodded, which was the closest thing to a second word of gratitude in a day that he could get. "I'm not sure if Tinnie had any, er, best gal friends so to speak, but they all know how risky it is to get into smut. Someone had to have found out, especially with Brega getting us on the job now."

He thought for a moment, setting Dina back onto the floor. Frowning, she hugged at his leg, sensing something serious was being discussed. "I know there is at least one person who comes to check on Dina, other than myself. But I don't think she's a...prostitute."

It was probably unecessary to keep his words clean around a girl who had grown in a whorehouse, but it was hard habit to kick with his upbringing in Sunset.

"A servant, more like, one of the maids who does the cleaning or cooking. Isn't that right, Dina?"

The child looked up and her frown turned itself upside down. "You mean Maggie? Maggie 's nice. Sometimes she gives me soup. But she made me keep it a secret, or she gets in trouble."

Dina gave both the adults a grave look. "She won't be in trouble, will she?"

"Nah," Nov replied, injecting as much confidence as he could into his own word. In all likelihood, no one was going to give a servant trouble for feeding a child. But you never know, especially with a child as tangled in unpredictable forces as this one.

"Thank you for telling us, Dina. It'll make finding your mum much easier. Now, as for friends, I don't know who's closest to her. I stopped asking her such things a long time ago. But, I do know who hates her, and that would be Big Berta. Husky looking thing, with a lot of dark clothing and a fetish for whips."

Nov grimaced, remembering all to well the times Berta had confronted him, demanding to know what was so special about Tinnie when she was the one who liked pain. The crazy wench had demanded more than once he use his mark on her, to which he flatly continued to refuse. It was uncomfortable at best, having this many people know about his curse. But, whatever Berta may be, she was true to her word and not one to be cowed by threats. She would keep his secret to her deathbed, just like Tinnie.

"Yeahh...try to be careful around that one, if you bump into her," he cautioned. "She's tall for a woman and not afraid to use whatever twisted contraptions she's got lying around."

Nov sighed, combing back his hair in frustration. What the gods was Tinnie thinking, getting herself into this mess? He could only hope she was still alive and merely sticking around her worm of a husband out of necessity, not lying in some alleyway with her throat slit. "Tinnie only had kind things to say about her husband," he added as an afterthought, "though I'll never be able to see them as true. Whatever he may be, he's a Daggerhand. And Daggerhands are not the sharing type, as you well know."

He struggled not to think about what had happened five years ago. About Nona. "If he could be moved to violence over a bit of smut from a whore, she would be scared. Very scared. Someone will have noticed."

"Well," Nov concluded, "I think that's everything. You good to go?"

[Arlana]

A servant named Maggie. The girl kept it in mind, wondering if there was the need to question the woman. Probably not for now.

Though she did not say this out loud, the Daggerhand involvement intrigued her. They had always been one of the strongest - and most threatening force in Sunberth. They ought to have some kind of connection to the slave trade in the city. She knew it was stupid to keep hoping that someone would know something about a slave caught more than ten years ago, but Arlana couldn't let herself stop hoping. Her brother was out there somewhere and alive. She could feel it. And she had to find him. The girl did not mention that if the chance presented itself, she would gladly question a member of the Daggerhand. Instead, she asked something any normal person would, "If the Daggerhand is involved, don't you think it'll be better if we stayed out of it? I mean, I never say no to a chance to get my hands on some gold, but you know..." She added a smirk. "Don't worry, I'm not planning to chicken out or anything."

As far as she could remember, Arlana had never really encountered a Daggerhand before. Or get into trouble with them. It was preferable to keep that way, but at the same time, it was driving her crazy. Some time ago, she had managed to coax out an information from someone regarding how the Slave Market worked. Apparently, a Daggerhand was in charge of some of their dealings a decade ago. It was the closest lead she had gotten so far. But because of their status, there was nothing Arlana could do to dig deeper.

For now, this was the least she could do.

"Let's go," Arlana announced lightly, slipping a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she bounded towards the closed door, bag slung over her shoulder. She looked back at the little girl and smiled reassuringly. "We'll find your mommy." Dina had only her mother as a family and Arlana couldn't let her lose a parent. She really hoped Tinnie was alive. No kid deserved to be abandoned by their family.

As she flung the door open, the brutes that were guarding the room turned their heads toward the slight girl who was at least a head shorter than them. Arlana grinned slightly and asked, "How can I find Big Berta, if I may ask?" If the other prostitutes really thought smut was a bad idea, she was sure someone who detested Tinnie would be most eager to dish the gossip. Brega must have told the men to assist the investigation or something because one of them pointed toward a direction down a hall without so much as a grunt.

With a glance back to check whether or not Noven was following her, the girl sauntered over to another prostitute's bedroom.

[Noven]

Noven caught himself wishing Arlana luck as she sauntered out the room. Ironic, that it should make things feel more ominous rather than reassuring. Another bleak thought added to his growing stack of worries. No point in dwelling on it now, though. The girl was already making her way towards Berta's quarters. She spared one glance backwards, to which Nov responded with wave of his hand, as though ushering her on. Then she was gone.

He shuddered a little in relief at not having to confront Big Berta. For being a woman, she unsettled him far more than he cared to admit.

Nov looked down at Dina, who was still clutching his leg, her expression a perfect picture of seriousness. "Hey, you okay with staying here by yourself for a bit?"

The girl gazed up at him and nodded. A no nonsense type of gal, this one was. He hoped against hope she wouldn't turn out like her mother.

With a few quick reassurances that he would be back in no time with something tasty for her to eat, Nov ducked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He nodded once to each of the guards and made his way down to the kitchens. If Arlana was ballsy enough to tackle Big Berta first, then he would brave the chaos of the kitchen staff for a closer inspection of this "Maggie".

Before he could take to the stairs again, however, he was waylaid by a mass of honey blonde curls, simpering dimples, and killer curves. "Novy!" the Happy Endings bombshell chirped as she pinned him against the wall, bosom first. "You've come to visit me at last! It's been sooo looong..."

Nov caught her hand as it trailed downwards and held it away from him, to which she gasped with mock alarm. "Now's not the time, Evelyn."

"On the contrary," she giggled breathlessly, pressing up against him in a most distracting manner, "now's the only time. I've got a regular in five chimes."

"Always the hopeless romantic," he scoffed, making a half-sincere attempt to push her squirming body back by the shoulders. "I mean it. I'm here on business, and I need to find one of the kitchen workers who goes by the name of Maggie. Ever heard of her?"

The whore pouted prettily. "Just cause Tinnie's gone doesn't mean you've got to reduce yourself to scrawny, girl-child maids. I'm here for you, Novy." She leaned her face in against his ear, and her whispers were all but tantalizing sighs. "Anytime, anywhere."

Nov picked up her up by the waist, much to her squealing delight, and marched toward the confines of her room. Generous chest heaving with heated lust, Evelyn's gaze was nothing short of smoldering as she wrapped her shapely limbs around his neck and torso. With one last squeeze against the sides of her fleshy, scantily clad hips, the cook pried her off and threw her down on her bed. Then, he took a step back, grinned as he said, "Thanks for the info, Evy," and shut the door in her face.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five steps later the whore burst from her room, cursing nine different kinds of hell. For being one of the Daggerhand's favorite informants, she was horribly unprofessional. Then again, it wasn't much of a surprise. Sometimes Nov wondered how the gang had survived at all, even with Robern in charge. Was it really just the doing of one man that their worthless lot managed to harness so much power and influence? The Daggerhands essentially owned Happy Endings, and Brega was not one to be easily cowed. What sort of hold did they have over the mistress of this fine, morally ambiguous establishment?

He may very well never know.

By the time he made it to the kitchens, most of the staff had flitted away to serve meals to various customers. Only a handful were left manning the various pots and pans. And one of them, much to his luck, was a skinny looking girl of no more than twelve or so years.

"Maggie?" Nov hazarded. It was a surefire method, at least, and if he was wrong then he'd only look slightly idiotic.

The girl turned, eyes wide with surprise. "Y-yes, sir?"

"Dina says hi," he smiled disarmingly. Poor thing looked like it was shaking in its raggedy rags, but at the mention of the child she visibly relaxed.

"Oh," she murmured, then repeated with more conviction. "Oh. I, um, ain't seen her yet today. She hungry? She must be hungry. Am...am I in trouble?"

Nov shook his head. She had to be a street urchin, likely picked off the streets by Brega out of kindness. He could recognize that accent anywhere, though the two matrons of his childhood had long since beaten it out of him. A sting of anger and sadness came and went. "Nope, not at all. And don't worry, I gave her a little something to eat just now. Looks like you take good care of her."

At this, Maggie gave a wan little smile. "Yer Nov," she stated simply. "She talks 'bout ya all the time."

"And likewise," he nodded. "Any idea where her mum has been?"

The little kitchen maid frowned and shook her head. "Last time I saw, 'twas nothin' unusual. She left, like she always does e'ry couple days. Then she never came back. Ya think she's alright? Dina cries a lot..."

Nov was about to answer when a thud could be heard from overhead, followed by the obnoxious voice of some thug or other. When he dropped his gaze back down to look at Maggie, he was surprised to see her face stricken with fear. "That's 'er husband, the loud one," she whispered. Her dilated eyes locked onto his. "He fancies Evy. Always comes when Tinnie's aways."

Consternation plastered itself across the cook's face. Her husband? Then, if she wasn't off visiting him all this time, what the petch was she even doing?

"Thanks for the heads up, Maggie," he said, looking up at the ceiling once more. "I think it's time to pay Tinnie's husband a long, overdue visit. Ya might want to stay here until I'm gone before checking on Dina. Just in case."

The scullery maid nodded vigorously, eyes glued to his back like a shivering rabbit as he took careful steps up the stairs.

Nov hoped Arlana was still richly engaged with Berta, because things were about to get hairy in Evelyn's tiny, girlish quarters.

oocfeel free to make up whatever you think works with Berta. I got no idea where Tinnie is, IC or OOC

[Arlana]

At first, she knocked on what seemed like a flimsy wooden door. No answer. And so she knocked again. Still nothing. She tapped her foot on the ground as she waited for a chime. After the third time, Arlana was too annoyed not to turn the knob and simply barge in. No one was in sight to notice her anyway. As long as she didn't look suspicious, no one would question her presence too much. She kept the door slightly ajar behind her, just enough not to make her feel trapped.

Big Berta's room was not unlike Tinnie's, though more heavily decorated with things Arlana was uncomfortable with naming. She didn't have a hard time imagining the woman Noven had warned her about merely chimes ago. She's definitely different from Tinnie.

After making sure said-prostitute wasn't hiding in a closet or anything, Arlana paced around the bed. Without someone to question, she was not sure what she could do. Noven probably already left Tinnie's room and she doubted she could find him without proper directions. What was she supposed to do now? Hanging around the room of someone called Big Berta probably was not the best of ideas. The prostitute could return any time and demanded the thugs to throw Arlana out of the premises. Suddenly, she wished she had thought this through.

Now, the least she could do was harvest some profit from this whole ordeal and go find Noven. She certainly wasn't in the mood to disrupt the various activities of the brothel to find one woman.

Naturally, the vanity was her first choice. Most women would place their valuables there. A jewelry box was perched on the surface. It wasn't even locked. Arlana flicked the lid open and studied the insides as she used her finger to find a forgotten piece, buried under the gold and silver. A pair of ruby earrings caught her eye. Arlana picked one up, holding it gingerly between her fingers. Let her think she lost one of the pair.

"She's busy, you know. Berta's a big hit among the right crowd. I can keep you company in the mean time," a deep, seductive voice said behind her.

Taken by surprise, the girl whirled clumsily, nearly losing her balance in the haste. The door was now wide open and honestly she was annoyed that someone had actually succeeded at sneaking up on her. Not that she was a master of stealth or anything, but a thief should know better. As she focused on the figure leaning against the door frame, Arlana casually slipped the earring into her pocket. "Who are you?"

He was a young man with mischievous gray eyes and pale short hair, barely any older than her - and extremely handsome with a rugged look. The only thing that distracted her from his face was his bare chest, sculpted to perfection. Well, what else did she expect from a whorehouse? "Don't you think I should be asking you that? Because I am sure I would have remembered you if I've seen you before." He smiled and bowed dramatically. "Gavin, at your service."

"Any chance you know where Big Berta is? I really need to talk to her," Arlana asked coolly, as if she sneaked into a prostitute's bedroom everyday, totally ignoring the fact that Gavin was closing their distance. She turned her back then, continuing her search shamelessly. The boy-whore didn't seem like the type to rat her out. For now, at least.

"Not here, clearly. But it didn't seem to stop you from poking around her belongings."

The girl shrugged innocently as she sat on the vanity table, her fingers brushing against the thin layer of face powder. "I can't help myself." She pulled out the drawing from her bag, smoothing it out with her hands. "Alright, since she's not available, maybe you can help me instead."

Gavin didn't even waited for her offer as he snatched the paper from her. His eyebrow rose slightly, but Arlana could see the recognition and understanding in his eyes. It vanished in a second, replaced by a coy gleam. "Ah, you're looking for our missing girl. I'm afraid I don't know much."

Something told her he knew more than he let on. So, Arlana gave him the sincerest smile she could muster, calling upon her djed as he stood even closer - completely unaware that he was stepping into her sphere of influence. Her bright eyes held his closely, imagining the magic creating a string between them. "I need your help. Please."

"And why should I help you? What's in it for me?" he asked with smirk, leaning toward her. His hands rested on either side of her, trapping her effectively.

"That depends," she replied. The thief didn't back away, her eyes full of challenge. The only way she could get the answer she wanted was to play his games, so that's exactly what she's going to do. "What do you want?"

"That depends," Gavin echoed her lightly, more than happy to toy around with her. He was so close that she could smell the distinct boyish scent coming off him. "What do you want to know?"

The young woman tried to ignore the thrumming under her chest and simpered sweetly. "You can start by telling me what you know about that drawing." She rested her hand on his arm, the gesture more clinical than anything. Her fingers tingled as she focused her djed to their point of contact. "You can trust me."

[Noven]

He was close enough to hear Evelyn's well practiced squeals and her thuggish client's impatient growls. No one was around, not a single guard or servant or whore milling about. Taking their lunches, most like.

Nov waited outside her paper thin door, calm as a pea, until he heard the distinct sound of clothes being thrown about the room. Ten more grunt-filled ticks crawled by. Evelyn was notably quiet now, and suspiciously so. If worst came to worst, she was dead, which would only work in his favor. He could hear sounds of wood creaking furiously now, as well as feverish, panting breaths. Five more noisy ticks. Then the cook cracked his neck once on each side, rolled his shoulders a few times, and kicked open the door.

Evy was face down over her vanity table, smooth, porcelain buttocks partially covered by a harrier and far less pleasant set. The daggerhand had his hand over her neck so she wasn't able to see, and it appeared she had been drugged. Lucky, lucky day. The last thing Nov needed was that spying little whore to turn him in as this maggot's soon-to-be murderer.

"Who the petch a--AAAHH!" The thug howled as Nov grabbed him by his hair and dragged his trouserless body off the whore. Evelyn's limp body slid off the table and landed in a heap on her wooden floor boards. Throwing a blanket over her half naked form, the cook turned back to the Daggerhand and kicked the flailing man right in the gut.

Nov unsheathed one of his Tamos and pointed it at the gasping thug's beet-red face. "One peep out of you without my permission, rat, and I will spill your intestines right over your little whore. You got that?"

Wheezing, the man glared at him for a moment, then nodded.

"Good. Now. Where is Tinnie?"

Something akin to realization lit up the thug's stupid, ugly face. He cracked a grin, one hand still clutching his sore belly. "Ye'll never find her. Mark me words."

"I don't think you understand," Nov sighed, then fished out one of Evy's lacy undergarments and rammed it into the Daggerhand's mouth. Right before he speared the naked man's left hand against the floorboards with a Tamo and flared Krysus's mark.

Oh, how the vermin screamed. By the time he was done, his face was slick with tears and the stench of piss rose into the air. Jowls quivering, muscles twitching. The sight of Daggerhands trembling before him never got old. Nov pulled the lingerie from the man's mouth and spoke again, not a trace of mercy in his tone. "Where. Is. Tinnie."

The thug panted a bit before answering, "A-ask G-g-gavin."

Nov's expression darkened. "Who the petch is Gavin?"

"You sh-should just...g-go home," the Daggerhand wheezed. He swallowed, then continued with more confidence, "you don't want to f-find her."

He laughed, much to Noven's surprise, before he yanked out the dagger in his hand with a cry. "I-I've said...too much. He'll never forgive me. I'm sorry, Tinnie. Never meant..for you to get hurt."

"No, wai--"

It was too late. The thug had slit his own throat. Nov turned away as Tinnie's former husband gurgled his last breaths before silence blanketed the tiny, stuffy room. Brows furrowed in frustration, the cook retrieved his Tamo, wiped the blood with the edge of Evy's blanket, and crept out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.

He would need to find this Gavin. Hopefully Arlana had steered clear of him, if he was as dangerous as the thug had hinted.

[Arlana]

"Where did you get that?" Gavin asked a little too curiously, like he didn't expect her to have such a thing. He tried to take it from her hand but she pulled it away teasingly - when really she simply wanted to see how he would react.

"It doesn't matter. You know something about this, don't you?" the girl said sharply, hoping to fish out some information. The whore certainly seemed like he had something to say about the matter. Without Big Berta, Gavin would have to do, though there's no guarantee what he knew was worth anything.

He shrugged, his shoulders rolling gracefully. It was hard not to watch him move. "So I do. Information is pricey these days." They were close enough for her to feel his heavy breath stirring on her skin. Arlana shifted nervously on the worn table, trying to look calmer than she feel. It wasn't like she had never been this close to a man, but there was something about him that she couldn't quite explain.

"Tell me what you know, Gavin," she emphasized slowly, raising the drawing again. This was probably going to be harder than she expected. "Who makes pictures like this?"

His lips brushed against her ear and then jaw, making her shiver. Evidently, the young man certainly knew what he was doing to her. "The artist is right here in this building, in fact."

"Can you show him to me?"

"Of course. In fact, I'm doing it right now." Much to her surprise, his lips settled on hers.

His kiss was light, sending her skin tingling with desire, for something more. Gavin pulled her closer, wrapping his warmth around her. She wounded her fingers in his silky hair as he deepened the kiss. Despite the fact that he was a marvelous kisser, she still had things to do. Unfortunately, she thought as her free hand trailed down his chest, firmly pushing him back. "You drew this?"

"Surprised?" Gavin asked with a grin, pulling back even further so he could see her face. "I may not look like it but I'm an artist at heart."

Arlana couldn't exactly question the truth of his words, but he was her only lead for now. "She asked you to draw this? When? And do you know why?"

"A week ago, maybe? I didn't really care why she wanted some smut, so I didn't ask. You learn not to ask too many questions around here. Just forget about Tinnie. I can provide you a better distraction." To prove his point, his mouth covered hers again, this time more passionate, hungrier.

Before things could go any further, something broke her focus off Gavin. A single scream, so torn with pain and hurt, echoing from the thin walls. Arlana froze, remembering what she was here for. A part of her loathed the fact that they stopped, but it was probably a sign. Her mind was still befuddled from the kiss, but it was enough for her to know that it wasn't a voice she recognized. "What was that?"

"It's nothing. Most likely some client that's having too much fun." He leaned down again, brushing his lips on hers.

Arlana carefully disengaged from Gavin, slipping away from his embrace. The scream continued for a couple more seconds before disappearing completely. It certainly didn't sound like a man enjoying his time in a brothel. Could it possibly be Noven? Come to think of it, he hadn't returned from whatever it was he did. Questioning someone shouldn't take that long, right? But then again, that was what she thought before she met Gavin and things went a bit more complicated. She darted a glance in his direction, the worry creeping up to her. "Is that all the information you can offer me? Because I really need to go." She better do this right if she wanted to get paid.

"I don't think so." A key miraculously appeared in his hand as he walked over to the door, blocking her way. Arlana wasn't sure what he was doing until it was too late. As the lock clicked in place, the thief stiffened. She tried to ignore the sense of vulnerability that came crashing to her. A locked door was not something she was fond of. She still wasn't sure what the whore was doing but she sure wasn't playing along.

"What are you doing? You can't lock me in here!" She poured her anger to her words, hoping to snap him into sense and let her out.

With a devious smile, Gavin walked over to the open window. She knew what he was doing, but her movements were too slow. The girl surged forward, crashing into the whore, trying to grab her only chance to get out. Still, she could only watch as the trinket soared outside and disappeared. "Now, you're not going anywhere." His arms slithered around her, pressing her body against his. She tried to push away but she was locked in his embrace.

"I can scream, you know," Arlana said, her voice surprisingly calm. Defiantly, she dug her nails into Gavin's arm, but he didn't even flinch.

The young man laughed lightly, but somehow it sounded bitter too. His confidence was still there, but she could spot the hesitation for a fraction of a tick. Slow, but steady. Slowly. "And what? This is a brothel, people scream all the time and lucky for you, everyone is out on their break as of now."

Arlana clenched her teeth tightly, looking away. He was right, of course. "What is it that you want?"

"I can't have girls walking around, asking questions they shouldn't, can I? Or anyone, really? Because honestly, I think Tinnie doesn't want to be found."

"You know someone was coming today to look for her," the thief said accusingly. She took another step back, completely aware of the fact that she had nowhere else to go. Arlana felt a lot like a cornered prey, eyes darting around for an escape. "You're in Berta's room because you planned to, didn't you?" Gavin stood between her and the door, but even if she got pass him, she couldn't possibly break a petching door.

He shrugged slightly. "I figured someone will go nosing around sooner or later. I expected a man they told me about. Noven or something? It doesn't matter." The so-called whore bent down and pulled up the sleeve of his pants, revealing a wicked-looking dagger strapped to his right calf. "Disposing him shouldn't be too hard, but I certainly wasn't expecting a fair maiden to come along. It's unfortunate really that I have to cut our meeting short."

Arlana sneered, still refusing to show her doubt. "Drop the act, Gavin. What did you do to her?" She edged toward her bag, sagged in a heap near the vanity table. "I couldn't help wondering though. Why do you care about a pair of strangers looking for your fellow prostitute? I am guessing she's your lover or something along that line?"

"Not at all." Clearly familiar with the layout of the room, Gavin reached down for something underneath the bed. Arlana swallowed nervously as she saw what he was holding - a pair of steel manacles. He kept walking toward her direction, cornering her between the table. "She's not my type. I'm more attracted to women with dark brown hair and pretty blue eyes."

She expected what came next but that wasn't enough. Gavin moved faster than Arlana had imagine he could, his movements effective and perfectly trained. The boy shoved her, slamming her back against the edge of the table. The thief was stunned. But he wasn't finished. Her arm was nearly yanked out of its socket when he forced her down. He was certainly no typical whore. His hand locked the chain around her wrist. Before she could pull back, he clasped the other end around the table leg.

Petch. Petch. Petch. That was all she could think of as she watched him taking a step back, a satisfied smile growing on his lips. The point of his knife rested on her throat and she could feel the tingling as he pressed it deeper. "If you just leave the problem alone, we wouldn't be in this situation. I'm afraid now you know things you really shouldn't."

"Fuck you, Gavin," she snarled, still struggling with the chains. At least she had one hand free - not that it mattered much unless she could reach her bag.

"I would play nice if I were you," he warned timidly, now grazing his blade against the skin on her collarbone. "You wouldn't want the same fate as Tinnie. Though, I have to say, she's probably in a happier place now."

"Amazing. You're a whore, an artist and a murderer? What a talented man you are, Gavin," she replied sarcastically.

"I never said I killed her. As of now, she's very much alive." He smirked and leaned his face closer. Arlana squirmed, the back of her legs pressed against the bed. How did she get herself into this? "I really like you. I wish I didn't have to kill you."

"Then don't," Arlana pleaded carefully, trying not too sound to desperate. She tugged at the chains again, twisting her wrist against the cold metal. It was hopeless. Even if it wasn't meant to actually hold a prisoner, Arlana still wasn't strong enough to break free. Desperate, she flooded her words with djed once more. "I won't tell anyone what I know."

He sighed and ran his fingers through his short hair. "As much as I wanted to believe that, I don't think I can."

Arlana locked his gaze on her, forcing him to focus on only her. She imagined looking through his eyes and not paying attention to anything else but the girl in front of him. She felt her way into his mind, probing trying to find a angle she could manipulate. Somehow, she had to make sure he wouldn't kill her. The thief was nowhere that skilled in hypnotism, but there must be a way for her to save her own skin. She considered screaming for Nov - which would work better if she didn't have a knife pointed at her.

Stall, that's all I can do and hope Noven finds me first.

OOCSorry for the wait and the sort-of-awful post