Closed The Paper Trail [Fallon]

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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on June 27th, 2014, 11:01 pm

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32nd Summer, 514 AV - Pig‘sFoot Tavern


She smiled at the little pieces of paper she had prepared for what she had in mind, a small game that she hoped would provide a little light amusement that was much needed for Fallon, something to take her mind off of the requirements of the harder portions of her life even if for a few Bells. She doubted that it would prove overly challenging, she was a smart woman after all but the success didn’t matter as much as the journey. It would be whether there was enjoyment that would determine whether Zandelia had found success in the endeavor she had set herself. She had not told the other woman as that would have been far less amusing and given time to prepare that she didn’t want to give her. She wanted to see her mind work at it as it unfolded. In some ways though it was a strange reversal, where she was the one leading the way and Fallon following the trail she set. She folded them once more after tracing a finger over the dry surfaces and flicking them like a hand of cards before slipping them back into her armor.

She had written them where she could, not the best or most legible of offerings but there had been little in the way of creature comforts of late and so she had made do. Years of hard living had taught her to work with whatever she could find. Some were in true ink, others scrawled in the charcoals of a dead fire.

I wonder if I should make a comment about a wolf when she arrives, following like a good canine. No…no we can save that for later she chuckled into her wine as she waited.

It was a usual eating-place, they had met many times before within the Pig’s Foot but then it was a central hub of the city and she wanted the other to think it was going to be a social occasion. Truthfully there had been little such moments of late and though she knew there would be some grumbling from the heat it was too perfect to let it slip away. Fallon in her heat addled state was more easily led along in some ways - if more irritable. She would change that slightly hopefully but for now she merely listened to the patrons talking and planned things out within the recesses of her own mind. People left her alone for the most part these days, unless they wanted something. Though the dagger placed neatly upon the table showed she was in no mood for negotiations this day.

She was alone, for now.

“Thank you Beth” she stated as the barmaid passed and refilled her cup slightly with a smile.

She had been accorded a slightly better service since she had saved Caela from the wolves of rape and though she hadn’t set out to achieve that she could not deny that she enjoyed it. Such was the game of life, pulling a string here and there - if even unwittingly - and building something worth keeping. She was doing it with Merv slowly, he was a powerful man in the city and much loved. Being on his good side was paramount for social survival and so she had decided not to resort to threat tactics or extortion with him. She would gain his graces through good works and accepted assistance. She had already helped him with some debtors and as such she thought she had made some encouraging first steps. She sipped her wine sparingly but enough that it would be easily finished for when the departure would come.

“First I need to set the rules though, definitely the rules” she noted seriously to herself.

She had few rules but when it came to learning, and this was what the exercise was partly based upon, she liked to know her pupils would do as they were told. Not that she had had many to teach in her line of work but still the principle was strong within her. It was strangely liberating also, to be in charge. She did so love to pull the strings where appropriate. Fallon had asked for Stumble Alley and Zandelia would give it to her. Just not quite in the traditional sense. She was never so overt as that, instead she would give Fallon the greatest gift that she could give. She would give her means and that was far more important that stone walls in her mind. Walls could be destroyed, buildings razed in a day. Other things, however, were far more lasting and as such more precious. It was a tight rope she walked though, she had never had extensive dealings with the denizens of the wretched street of Sunberth and that was why she was armored and armed instead of in free flowing and cooler clothing.

Not to mention the fact that we are still being hunted… she told herself grimly. She was still enraged over that, though the initial fires had now become the cinders of retributive justice.

She wanted to help Fallon thrive, not help her into an early grave. As such she would watch over her as best she could.

She waited and she waited with a broad grin.
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Last edited by Zandelia on July 7th, 2014, 11:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Zandelia
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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on June 28th, 2014, 11:54 am

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"Soon... Soon. You're doing good," sighed the woman. There was a wince as the fingers probed, her teeth breaking forth from a slit between her lips. A small hiss, a subtle jerk as the nails dug in and scrapped a bit too much. She could feel the moisture dripping down, running in rivulets as she blinked. There was a small groan, a quickening of breath as Fallon simply stared. Hunched over, her forearms resting upon her thighs, a gentle rock of movement with every pull and prod. There was the distinct scent of sweat and salt, sharp and piercing in comparison to the rest of Sunberth. It would be safe to say it smothered the senses, more so in the present position. Fallon gasped, her brow creasing into a line as the fingers withdrew and gave a shake. A finger was placed underneath her chin, the dyer blinking at her and then brushing a strand of hair to one side. There was a smile, then a look down once more.

"You know, when you approached and said you needed something dyed, I thought you meant clothing," She gave a snort and withdrew her hand and turned her attention back down to the dark, reddish sludge, "Not your hair." Fingers ran through it once more, lifting it up into her hands before she once more took a handful and applied it to the tangles, "And using clothing dye no less, I'm sorry there's nothing more subtle."
"It's not that bad, it could be worse,"
Fallon spoke between grunts as the fingers massaged between the hairs once more, "Whilst dark would be better anyway, I have the eyebrows for it. But, you take what can be taken. At least it's nothing... outlandish like blue."
The woman gave only a laugh, fingers combing through the ends as she rubbed and massaged it in, "Well, I guess you're right in that case. An advantage indeed! Now, hold still. Almost done."

Fallon once more sat in silence, feeling the dark rivulets of water trace down her jaw, whilst the majority of black begun to set itself in deeply. The woman was humming, obviously enjoying the change of pace from her normal work load of cloth dying. Not that it seemed too much of an issue, the other vats seemed to be ticking over nicely in their own dark colours. The hair was gathered, twisted and a drip of moisture came free from it. After that an old rag was promptly thrown over her head and the fingers begun the rough process of hand drying. Had it been Zandelia doing this, Fallon would have probably enjoyed it slightly more - but given the situation and the reason for doing so, she felt little pleasure from it.

Huffing when the rag was pulled back, she gave a flurry of blinks before it came in once more and begun the process of wiping clean her face and around her neck. It was Fallon's own gloved fingers that proceeded to pull the hair back then, still uncertain and unknown as to how it had turned out. But, the woman was smiling as she cleaned her own hands off, "There, done. Very dark now, really covers the blonde. If hair is anything like fabric, then you should be fine for a little while with a few washes. It may fade a little bit, and when you hair grows... well it will come back blonde."
"Thanks for that,"
Fallon nodded as she brought herself up to standing. Regardless, it would have to do for now. Taking the coat and armour up she begun the process of slipping it on, if not for the occasional glance to the world outside. She was supposed to be meeting Zandelia and for a moment wondered if she was running late. Not that she meant to, it was just the process took longer than she first expected. Fishing out the gold from her pocket, she pressed it firmly into the palm of the dyer, the other hand falling to the hilt of her tulwar, "Speak of this to no one."

And with that, she was gone. She gave a step out into the hot sun, hand raising as she brushed back the tangles briefly into some semblance of order, before she made a beeline for the Pigs foot. No doubt the hair would dry on her journey there, the heat was powerful enough to make most damp things to dry out quickly. There was a few looks at her as she walked, her eyes darting back and forth. Her eyes managed to steal a flicker of her reflection in the glass of a window, and failed for a moment to recognise it as her own - it was indeed a drastic change in colour. Hair a rich, red carnelian, the green-blue orbs seemed to pierce out just a little bit more than normal, with the pale skin more noticeable in its contrast. With some grooming it would have almost looked noble - if not somewhat Inartan in appearance -, but it was not and so left teasing at the air in a variety of curls and flicks instead, and with the armour it definitely boosted the look of being more of a lad. Her mind pressed her onto other things soon after, namely the escaping of the relentless sun. Without further distraction she pushed herself on, feeling the thin layer of sweat begin to stick to her skin with every step.

When Fallon did finally managed to make it to the Pigs Foot, she was dripping. The starts of a headache begun to muster in the back of her mind, and already she was starting to crave the sweat stinking room where the dyes were. Her finger tugged at her collar, her eyes looking ahead as she scanned the surroundings. There was only a few glances from the patrons, none seemed to recognise her with the new shade that crowned her head. Merv did give her an odd look however, almost as if trying to work it out, but for the most part he remained silent. Zandelia however was easy to spot, sitting there silently and sipping her cup of something - wine she guessed - with that catlike smile upon her face. At least one of them was not suffering in the heat.

Rubbing at her throat, Fallon slowly made her way over, looking and searching for those lower tones. There was a glance down to the dagger, only briefly, before she place a hand upon the back of the free chair and looked promptly down. It was then in the lower tones that she was beginning to grow accustomed to that she spoke, "M'lady. This lad would like to sit with the her and buy a drink... if that is alright?"
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ooc-5gm for black 'clothing dye' services.
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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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on June 28th, 2014, 2:33 pm

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“Of course, though I expect company soon so you will need to remove yourself shortly. Until then…whatever may please you. But don’t talk, I care not for your issues nor your problems. I am not open for contract today. Return a few days from now and…perhaps” she shrugged, tone rough and workman-like as was Web’s wont, as she caught the red hair and did not register the rest for a little while and gestured to the seat opposite her.

She sipped her wine and her gaze darted to the stranger intermittently as she assessed the threat level - there was something about this boy that bothered her. He seemed familiar and yet most definitely she had not had dealings with one of such colored locks before. Not for a long, long time. Much too long for the lack of years to make sense. There was a tickling at her senses, a jabbing at her mind as she continued to drink. She looked past the captivating hair, so aesthetically pleasing and attractive, and instead noted the turn of the jaw and the pale skin. The lips and the sea green eyes that stared so deeply. The clothing and…the…weapons and the…sweat. She almost coughed into her cup in shock but managed to control it enough that she didn’t spray droplets of wine everywhere. Still she coughed a few times as she set the remainder of her wine down and looked at it cautiously.

“Yes, I think I need another drink. The last one seems to have…vanished” she stated weakly as she tried to find a balance. She looked at Fallon then, what a difference just hair color could make.

“Well, I’m not sure I have drunk that much. So I’m going to assume that it is…real,” she tilted her head once before she remembered where they were and she slipped her ‘Web’ mask back into palace, “a very beautiful shade indeed. I think it will serve” she drained the rest of her cup and leant back into the chair as she fiddled with the hilt of the dagger upon the table.

It was difficult to concentrate as reality shifted and tried to become something familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. She saw the sense of it and she approved, in more ways than one. She did so like red heads and it matched Fallon’s…passionate side. She licked her lips and smiled, it was a foolish thing to consider that perhaps Fallon had somehow known about her preferences but she enjoyed it a little before she allowed the true reasoning to take hold and assert itself with business-like severity. She did take a few long moments to simply observe before she decided to press on with what she had in mind for the day.

“And now I suppose you are wondering why I asked you to meet here, in this place and in the light of day?” she asked the rhetorical question, “I have in mind to play a little game. Something that I hope will be both instructive and light hearted because given recent events I think we both need something to enjoy”

“Don’t mistake it for idle fun, however, because it will hopefully be somewhat a present. You asked for Stumble Alley, or a way to understand it better. We both agree that it is best to experience it directly. I also now that you want to know more about what I do and how I work….in my job of course”

“So…a game” she stated warmly as she traced the tip of the weapon upon the table idly.

She pulled one of the folded pieces of paper from within her armor out at random, the order was immaterial bar the last one she had in mind and she flicked it open to see that it was not that one before folding it and placing it upon the table between them neatly. She placed the dagger’s tip atop it to stop it from being taken immediately. She fixed Fallon with a serious gaze then, one that brooked no argument she hoped. Though in truth she was not entirely sure who gave the orders anymore and who followed. She suspected she was less dominant but perhaps it was time to take back some of that with her own orders.

“You are smart, you know people and can figure out puzzles well enough I think. I want to know how well you know the people in that alley and make sure that you learn enough, know enough, before it begins. As agreed. This is the first of a few riddles, clues you might say, to test that knowledge. And if you can guess the purpose of this escapade and capitalize upon it then all the better”

“I will let you take it but first, a few rules. At the end is a reward for you. If you pass all the tests it remains full and enjoyable. For every clue given, if required, it diminishes. That gives you power over how much is claimed. So long as you are successful. There will also be an instruction at the bottom of each little riddle and you must also entertain that instruction or the previously stated hold true again”

“As for incentive, I offer simply this” she pulled out one bright blur strand of fabric and placed it upon the first missive delicately - a ribbon. She grinned at that, it was her turn to torment slightly she felt.

She leant back and pulled the dagger away to await the response of the other woman, slipping the weapon away into its sheath neatly before crossing her arms across her torso with a slight satisfaction. She hoped she had provoked attention and interest. If so then the note would be opened to reveal its script. She could recall it from memory.

Crotchety and old beyond knowing, impervious to the dangers of the dark. I live upon charity, am garbed in no riches, pitied for the weakness of my bark.

~ Learn why he is still alive ~
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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on June 28th, 2014, 6:02 pm

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It was Zandelia's response that made the lips curl into that of a smile, more so as it managed to have avoided detection from the supposedly observant woman. She blew a strand of now red hair to one side, her brow raising as the simple matter of fact tone cut her off and she was left in no doubt that today was not a day of business. There was a scrape of wood as she pulled the chair out and promptly sat down upon it, waiting for her to finally notice. All the while, Fallon sat there leaning back with her fingers laced waiting for the reaction. And when it did all finally come together, the curl turned into a slither of a grin whilst the woman hacked up her drink.

"Did it go down the wrong hole Web?" She held the accent of Bitzer as she simply cocked her head to one side in amusement, "And I guess you were always taught to spit, not swallow then." The brow raised in challenge, before she signalled the barmaid over, "Get another cup of drink for the lady, and I'm parched. Quart Ale, Three-Quart water." The woman gave a perplexed look to her own request, and quickly went on her way. It was only after the noticeable sniggering of Merv in the background that the woman returned with what was requested. In the meanwhile however, Fallon set herself to simply listening to what was unfolding before her, "It's very real. I figured... after our previous adventures it may be best to adopt something new. Thank you for the approval."

She slid the wine across, before taking up her own watered ale. There was only a long glug after that, the cooler liquid rolling down her throat and quenching her thirst. A gasp, a wipe of the brow free of sweat, before she gave only a nod for her to continue. She watched the pause, the underlying subtleties in the way that emerald orb looked and observed, before it was smothered behind the original plan - whatever that may have been. Fallon cocked an eyebrow, a slower sip this time of the drink as she tended to her parched throat. So Zandelia had managed to construct a game in the midst of all the chaos going about them. How on earth she had achieved that was beyond her, but she still took it in good graces.

"A game?" Her eyes followed the pieces of paper down to the table. Her hand twitched and she reached out to grab it - before promptly being stopped by the dagger tip. Eyes narrowed, meeting that gaze with a deep inhale. Green-blue stared into green, fixed, unmoving in force as she simply stared deep within - a blank vacant expression smothering her features down into nothing. Unbending she leaned in, a wrestle almost of willpower as she held it. Of course she wanted to know what its contents was, the craving for knowledge and information pushed that part of her almost passionately. It allowed understanding, and with that a plan could be made and laid out. There was a slow blink, the feeling slowing and swirling within her for a moment, deeper, piercing, and all consuming as she held it - Let me kn-

It was the words that snapped her attention back to reality. Blinking and snapping out of the almost trance like state, as she attempted to keep up with what was said. People, yes, she was talking about people. Or more over the finding and locating of them within the city itself. Her eyes narrowed then, her lip chewing as she looked for the woman's logic. It meant she would learn of the denizens, in name at least, an advantage to say the least if she truly did set herself to wanting to take it in the name of the Scars. Fingers massaged at her brow, eyes narrowing only briefly before she simply gave a nod, "I understand. I think. Learn the life blood that flows through the heart and understand the rhythm that it beats. Live it, breath it, be it."

Fallon eyed the ribbon suspiciously then. She knew what it meant, and that was outside of the simple incentive. Her lip gave a curl, her brow rising as she considered what the actual meaning was when mixed in with the prospect of a prize. Which came with its own cost if certain clues were given and dropped, aid gained and the prize lessened. It was carefully that she took the blue ribbon between her thumb and forefinger. The expression dipped behind neutrality, but the eyes turned and stared intently at the woman across the table from her as the fingers simply begun to play. It knotted, snagging between the digits, before she simply raised it to her lips and pulled it free with her teeth. It was from there that she simply slipped the length of ribbon around her neck and neatly tied it off. There was no need to say that the challenge was accepted, the action had spoken it enough.

Taking up the paper she unfolded it and read it a few times over, pushing back the more inappropriate ideas in the process. It was a riddle, she realised after a few moments of pondering, about one of those who lived in stumble alley - with its attached mission on the side. Lips were licked, and her gaze returned once more.
"So, this isn't about you then?" she teased before draining off the rest of her drink. Standing she begun to flicker through who existed there, lips twitching as she tried to put names to faces. She was no fool to know she had not heard of some of the members there, and with that she had a feeling she knew who it was. There was an incline of the head to the exit of the tavern, and outside begrudgingly into the day light.

Tugging at her collar once more as she walked, quicker as she thought about the ideas of shade and cool. Perhaps that was why she was also drawn to Stumble alley, it was somewhat cooler due to its narrow state and twists. Eyes blinked, the building up of sweat once more as she stepped forward and begun the slow process of going through the names, "Well... it isn't Remmy. She's a librarian and doesn't live off charity when I last checked. And then there's... who lives in the majestic, the bashful one? But again neither live in the dark... Night. None are in the open of stumble alley at night. Both stay behind locked doors."

Regardless, Stumble Alley greeted her and if it was not for the crazed words of some fool man upon the corner, then it would have been silent. Her chin lifted, her eyes narrowing down as she took the scene in before her. It was still, clean and cool - full of pleasant shade and sheltered from the elements. The floor, as always, was cobbled smooth stone with some of the building fronts matching it. Others were wood or masonry with their own fair share of rot and decay within them. Eyes went into a narrow, the cheeks puffing as she scanned it once more. The insane words of the beggar grew louder as she stepped, the hunched over old fool making his presence well known.

"Codger," she breathed, "I mean, look at that toothy grin. Got to be old. And he's a beggar from what little I have seen from him." she tilted her head at that point, her eyes sweeping to Zandelia as she recalled the words upon the paper and begun the process of elimination, "Why he is still alive though...?" She asked herself rhetorically then, her head cocking to one side as she tried her best to work it out, "Suppose it depends on the context really. Like a normal being he'd need coin for food and sustenance. If it's for survival in the alley..." she made a wiry grin and dropped her voice, "He stinks to the skies and back. Looks like he hasn't washed in years to boot. Maybe the smell keeps whatever prowls here away... maybe."
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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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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on June 28th, 2014, 7:34 pm

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“Almost sounds like you wish for me to demonstrate for you, if I didn’t now any better. Perhaps we could find a way later. Always happy to teach” she snorted in response, clearly Fallon didn’t intend to make today an easy one. Always full of surprises she was, she seemed to relish making it so.

“You intend to let it go afterwards, shame, it suits you Bitzer. The red wolf. I seem to recall it is your…color,” she stated with a small smile, “yes a game. Though not, in point of fact, a useless one. As you say, a learning game with a larger purpose. If you end up enjoying it perhaps more could be arranged”

She took the offered cup and drank from it deeply, she doubted that they would be afforded so many comforts for a while. In some ways it was risky that they were out in the open but it would not do to show weakness or fear. They would pursue their hunters but if they allowed their known presence to stop them from living their own lives then they had already lost. If trouble reared its head then they would deal with it, they were both capable after all though she had heard some darker mutterings of late about discontentment in the city. Caution was still existent within her but life was risk incarnate and as such they were always under threat. There had been grave robbing, gang violence and whisperings of a drug that was circulating and hindering various commerce and people. Break ins were also becoming more common and adventurous she had been informed.

Yet all of that paled, briefly, in comparison to the woman opposite and the veritable hunger that was radiating from her. The strong gaze, the piercing orbs all but glaring at her due to the teasing offer being lain down and then neatly blocked within moments. For once she had the upper hand, dangling something before Fallon that she knew couldn’t be resisted even if she didn’t know what it held beyond general description. In response to the flat stare her lips simply curled and she raised and eyebrow. It was with glee that it was finally given up and all but devoured by her eyes.

“Oh good, you can follow when it suits you” she made the comment and hid her face behind her cup as she drained it fully and placed it delicately upon the wooden table. She took a moment to consider the drink she had chosen, mostly water, it was a wise choice given her current state.

It was with a brief consideration that perhaps she had over-stretched herself in her gambit as the ribbon was toyed with, observed and then knotted succinctly before being looped around Fallon’s neck and the message was easily read - she was game and she planned to win whatever she believed the prize to be. She was sure it had already been figured out but that was half of the fun, to see how much she wanted to win due to competitive nature and learning and how much for the end result. She wondered why she had chosen the neck to loop it around however, yet it was a small concern for her to ruminate upon as the day unfolded. She simply listened in silence and let the other think things through in her own time. She had set no time limit upon the game, there were no restraints beyond figuring out the riddles and the requests.

Yes…requests she noted to herself with an inner chuckle.

“Of course not, this is entirely for your own benefit. If I happen to enjoy it along the way…” she shrugged and pushed herself from her seat and joined Fallon in stepping out into the sunlight.

She was moving quickly, presumably because they both knew Stumble Alley was better shielded from Syna and her heat due to the tall buildings and the old, narrow street. Shade was a prerequisite for her at present and so she didn’t begrudge having to keep up and increase her speed to match the eagerly set one given to her. She kept her wits about her, her eye open for any signs of danger but finding nothing as they found themselves turning into their destination and she saw the target of the first riddle standing and raving in his customary fashion. She wondered how long it would take as she simply observed and gave no clues - she wouldn’t unless asked directly. And she would have to be asked or Fallon wouldn’t get.

“Your knowledge of the denizens of Stumble serves you well Bitzer,” she stated in a jovial, airy tone, “but no answers from me I think. Rules remember. You want clues then ask but other than that I-” her lips broke out into a broad grin at the guess, finally noticing the old Codger for what he was.

“Well done, yes…Codger. An old man, senile at best some say. Yet still alive in the darkest and most deadly part of the city. Strange, don’t you think?” she tilted her head and placed her hands upon her hips as she leant against the wall near to the old man and listened - he was a pleasant constant for people, a reliable reminder that he was worse of than everyone else was.

“Oh he certainly smells, never bathes from what I gather. Yes he needs coin, as do we all so you notice. No that is not it. And I have never known of a mercenary or two to be afraid of a little bit of stench. You’d all be out of jobs otherwise surely?” she was enjoying this, watching the other think and puzzle things out.

“He is alone, old, weak and senile. And yet he survives. Perhaps you should…no I can’t tell you,” she almost purred, “can’t say” she merely gestured at Codger in mid-raving, sweeping her hand to take in his decrepit, dirty and wrinkled form.
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Zandelia
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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on June 28th, 2014, 8:35 pm

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"Depends on who you wish to demonstrate on," She gave a glance back, her lip curling, "It would be rather unprofessional to pick a rival for such a lesson. Perhaps we could... Why, have you already found a willing volunteer?" Pleasantries were nice for as long as they lasted, those little moments of simply living and not cowering way in fear to what enemies may be lurking within the shadows. Those pieces of peace even within a city of anarchy. Still, her stride remained strong as she shadow hopped, the now red hair aglow within the sunlight. There was no real time to feel self conscious about it, and she had a distinct feeling that there would be little good in doing so now anyway. What was done was done, there was no going back now.

Zandelia of course, was going to be difficult, for that was the way she was - a cougar who hunted down her prey and frequently chose not to let go once it was targeted. This was the same, in some respects. She had chosen to simply play and focused her attention solely upon that. Not that she would have shirked the woman for such behaviour, somewhere within the ego gave the gentlest of flutters to it, and the pulse seemed to climb up as if wrapped in deep anticipation to what was to come. Lips were wetted as she took the scene in once more and her eyes scanned the man up and down.

Nostrils gave a flare, lips wetting as she picked out the scene before her and mentally worked her way around it. Codger was a filthy man, that was to say the least. Dressed in rags, and as Zandelia had pointed out, stark raving mad. Her jaw had set into a line as she tilted her head to one side, the words bit by bit turning round in her head. He gave another flurry of something illegible, or at least words that prove his insanity rather nicely. And it was her head that turned at that point directly to Zandelia with a seriously perplexed look, "Please tell me I didn't miss hear, 'beware of the three-eyed fishing cat'?"

She blinked a few times almost as if to mentally confirm what she had heard, before once more turning her attention to the man. Rags, stench, a well worn cloak across his shoulders, she analysed him carefully as she continued to listen. Chewing upon her lip she considered him for a moment, slowing down the words within her head as he spoke them with his worn out voice. There was an inhale, nose twitching as she broke it down bit by bit. More, what did he say?

Fallon's mouth twitched, her brow creasing as she simply stopped, observed and listened. Thoughts turned, the cogs of the mind turned, picking up speed quickly as she caught the ending taunt of Zandelia. There was a step forward, head lowering as she gave a bob, fingers twitching as she traced the letters. Close, slow, the eyes darted again, bringing the puzzle pieces about and rearranging them, spinning it around as they were dissected and then reformed anew. She pivoted round at that point, a moment of estranged understanding hitting her as she looked upon the situation unclouded by what she had first seen.

"He shouts, he screams, but none hear him. He begs on whims, he whispers truth between the sanity. He lives and thrives where none cannot, it is almost as if he is bound to the rock," the blue-green orbs gave a blink, words falling forth as her thought process turned verbal, "I'm there but not there, I heard but not heard. Existing upon the edge of the mind, and denied the right of sanity..." She paused, a gentle lean as she gave a glance back and the voice turned to that of a mumble, "I'm just an old bloke, Who lives because of his ragged... cloak." Fallon's head snapped back round to Zandelia at that point, "Cloak. It's the cloak he wears. At least... that's what he claims."

There was a step back to the woman at that point, the form almost slinking as the steps seemed to lighten and the once clinking steel turning silent, "The ragged cloak is what keeps him alive. Final answer."
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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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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on June 29th, 2014, 1:48 pm

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“I am not sure there are many queuing up to come and tempt me into that offer, there are cheaper and less troublesome women to be purchased elsewhere. No, alas for the most part I just get drunken mercenaries leering at me. Sometimes they aren’t drunk and can actually talk properly,” she shrugged as if it mattered not, verbal retorts aside she found enjoyment in the lack of tension between them despite the circumstances, “though the last time I found one I seem to recall it didn’t end well. For them anyway”

The undercurrent still ebbed and flowed, there had been words stated and revelations so far that had been testing in their own ways. Yet still they were alive, kicking back in the softest parts which they could find and as often as they could get the opportunity to. In some respects she saw it as a test, not just of their abilities but of them. Could they survive the fires? Literally even. She was beginning to see what those couples always seemed to be alluding to yet she was quite confident that they hadn’t had to do it with daggers at their backs. Unless they liked it that way, as for herself she’d have settled for getting to sleep in a bed for once. A proper bed too, not a makeshift one in a dark corner somewhere.

“Yes he did, also warned us to not step on the ten legged knives. Interesting fellow isn’t he? The thing is that the more you listen to him the more he just makes so much sense in this city” she grinned as she watched Fallon puzzle.

It was an interesting sight, one which she had not been afforded the opportunity to observe and assess. This wasn’t a fight to the death or an encounter or even a plan - this was thought, pure and at its simplest. She wanted to win and she thus was simplifying her thought as much as possible Zandelia thought. No convolutions here, no circular thinking. Just the heart of the matter and the seeking of the arrow to find its target. Her mind cast back a few days now and remembered the imaginary pulling before they had left Brega’s. An apt reflection she thought. There was testing, of course, she wouldn’t have respected Fallon if he didn’t try to test and push boundaries. Yet she did not ask fir help, she was stubborn and wanted to puzzle it out herself no matter how long it took.

Also admirable, so long as the answer comes in the end. She doesn’t think like me at all, she forms a list of sorts, I think. But more complex…several levels knowing her. Goes through it mentally, eliminating possibilities. Fitting together. Very logical, very constructed. A useful tool to remember and apply myself to see how it works for me perhaps she thought to herself as she continued to listen and appraise from her position against the wall.

“Well done indeed,” she chuckled as the answer eventually came, “very good, very well followed. That is what he thinks of course and there is some merit to the words. He can disappear well enough at his whim, I suspect before his mind broke he was a very good stealth artist. Which brings me to several points”

She pulled a strand of ribbon, red this time, from her wrist guard and stepped forwards to place it upon her head, it was a very close shade to that which was now upon her head - a tad lighter perhaps. She left it there for the other woman to do what she wished with it, it would be interesting to see what she would do with it indeed. One around the neck, the next…who knew. She reigned in her thinking and focused it upon Codger with a frown, a furrowed consideration. She pointed at him, cupping the elbow with her other hand.

“He is left alone because he has nothing worth taking, he appears to be a doddering old fool whom everyone can keep around so as to make their lives feel better. By comparison they are better off you see. They give him coin because he barks at them, not out of pity. Simple things but it’s the wider principle that matters”

“He has survived in the darkest parts of the city, at night, and he is an old man with not enough strength to beat a child. It tells you just what can survive here as long as they project the image, seem to be, what others either don’t feel threatened by or don’t mind keeping around,” she continued as she weighed the words, “you wanted ways to understand and manipulate this place…I give you Codger the Survivor”

“Here, the next little note” she held it up high after pulling it from her armor, Fallon would have to reach for it


Open all hours for pleasurable delight, known for curved blade in a cage. Amber my staple, I own Stumble and my past not talked of for an age.

~ Make a good impression ~
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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on June 30th, 2014, 9:22 pm

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There was only silence when Zandelia spoke, her head cocked to one side and her expression stuck as if trying to understand what was before her. The brow gave a crease, the lips forming into the line as the man continued his ravings in the background. Occasionally there was a flicker, a slight glow within the eye as something else, a snippet, clicked in place before once more dying back down. But otherwise the expression did not change, it was too consumed in focused thought to even consider lifting.

The arrow of her mind was still moving from side to side as it tried to line up. No, it was beyond just the individual now and thinking onwards to the other inhabitants of Stumble Alley and who dared to reside there. There was the library of course and the Majestic - or whatever it was called - with their respective owners, Remmy and Bashful. She was not sure who else may have floated about in the library - she may have caught a glimpse of a warrior in there once -, so that left the question of another potential there. But outside of that she was not completely sure who else may have resided in the alley.

Gloved fingers wiped away the sweat around her neck and brushed the ribbon slightly as Zandelia gave her praise. Another offering, another ribbon. Fallon's eyes briefly followed after it before almost wincing as the fabric was left to rest there. She took it, gingerly and gave it a long, hard look as the fingers became animated. They knotted in it once more, rubbing feeling the edge from behind the gloves, before she peeled back the sleeve of her shirt. Eyes flickered, mischievous for only a moment, and then dulling down once more. It was there upon the bare wrist that she promptly tied it round and used her teeth to tighten it so one end was noticeably longer than the other.

Fallon rubbed at her jaw, feeling the weight of the words tickle her mind. She was right when she said Stumble Alley needed a different sort of beast to take it in Sunberth. If an old man could survive here it made her question the best way in which to take over. It seemed almost as if they had to live as if they did not exist, be merely a blur within the corner of one's eye, unthreatening to whoever prowled here. The other of course made her wonder if it would be easier to work with it, beat with the pulse and maintain the image that something dark prowled here at night?

Her gaze flickered when the second note was pulled out and held high tauntingly. The expression turned to that of bemusement, the eyes simply staring before she let a sigh escape from her lips. Pinching her brow she simply shook her head, gave a tut and promptly stamped on the woman's foot. From there she snatched the paper away and begun to unfold it.

Fallon blinked, twice in fact. Expression fell away into a blank slate, the eyes darting across the lines once more. She gave a chew upon her lip, thinking, repeating and trying to work it through. Part of her wondered at that point where Zandelia had gotten the idea to present riddles to her - she knew she had no strength in such things and would only flounder. Pacing away in deeper to the alley she tried to flicker through what she knew of the inhabitants with a loud and noticeable mumbling, "Not Codger. Already done. Remmy is little. Librarian, no big blades and... books aren't pleasurable to many here. Bashful... quiet, nor bladed. And the place is... also quiet," She shook her head, "Sounds like whores. Or drink. Or both. Tavern? Brothel? But... haven't see one in Stumble. Cage and curved blade, fighter. Claims a big title..."

Part of Fallon squirmed internally, simply on the prospect of not knowing. She did not want to ask Zandelia for help, mainly out of the certainty she would either be patronised or ridiculed. As for the Lykata she doubted she would be able to use it effectively in this scenario. Still, her pacing forward and around the route that made up the location kept her attention looking to everything and anything that could possibly assist. Signs, faces, anything that made up for the emptiness that normally was adopted by Stumble Alley. And then she spotted the sign swinging off the alley wall - The Disappearing Drunk.

Another blink, another cock of the head to one side as she tried to feel out the situation. Who knew what laid beyond that door? Or, if it was even open. If it was anything like the rest of the alley then there was the high possibility it was abandoned. Regardless, the hand went forward and gently pushed it open. Beyond the narrow expanse of the interior greeted her - plain in comparison to other establishments - and it was with an incline of the head that she gestured inwards, "You are... coming right?"

Regardless, she gave a shuffle in, a bend of the shoulders as she noticed the robust man behind the counter, with the equally large axe. There was only a snort as he looked at her, then to the red hair and then away to whatever he was doing. Swallowing, Fallon dragged herself in deeper and set to simple observing of what was before her - it was a new place after all with new knowledge waiting to be discovered.
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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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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Zandelia on July 5th, 2014, 7:53 pm

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Breath hissed out from her lips, drawn back to expose her teeth, as the foot stamped down neatly - not enough to harm but certainly enough to cause her to recoil in shock at the stabbing sensation and bend low enough that the note was taken from her fingers quite neatly. An elegant move that she knew she should have seen coming but it was just too fun to not push the other woman, see what she was willing to do for a simple game of knowledge. It was interesting, she had seen many sides of Fallon in the past score of days or so specifically and in some ways she was intrigued, in others worried and fearful even. She shouldn’t taunt she knew but the day was supposed to be light hearted. She supposed the Fallon hadn’t got the message, or perhaps this was her idea of fun. She considered that as she flexed her foot a little, she did so like to play her own way.

“That, wasn’t very nice,” she grumbled, “next time there will be a rule about not stamping on toes. Petch that hurt” she continued as she tested her weight on the foot and found it solid, if slightly throbbing.

Looking at Fallon now it was clear that she was not so sure of herself in this arena, with riddles and word games. Or perhaps it was that her knowledge of the names and faces did not match her intellect. Both were possible and certainly that was the point of the game too, to learn names and faces. If she read the words carefully enough she would see more than a riddle though, she would see how the city saw these people - in her own perspectives the thoughts lain out in neat little rows. You couldn’t hunt a riddle figure unless you used that which everyone knew them as - it was a simple principle but in reading the words she was seeing their surface, if only a glimpse or two of it. What lay deeper than that though, that was what she hoped the other would think upon more.

How to use them, who to help and hinder, what to do that they see as valuable and thus return the assistance. She wants to lead, she can lead. Never liked being a leader anyway. But first she must know Sunberth back to front. In this case Stumble Alley she told herself.

She was still a little bemused as to why the location had been so suddenly chosen for their enterprises - no that was wrong. There was no sudden perhaps, she had thought upon it for some time she supposed but had chosen to introduce the idea at the season’s start quickly - almost eagerly. Yet to her knowledge Fallon had not stepped foot inside it too often, few people did after all. Then again she had her jobs and walks she liked to go upon. It was reasonable she had gone then, but that was yet to be proven. So she started small, with people and ideas and perceptions. Basic building blocks but perhaps useful in this case.

“Depends how you use the book, or what it’s about. And Remmy can surprise you if you let her, especially with a book” she snorted to herself after she had regained a portion of her humor and listened to the words.

“Closer, closer. Whores would probably get savaged to death in one night here, never heard of them in these parts unless there’s aback alley section around here somewhere. Possible but no. A tavern? Are you sure?” she raised and eyebrow, that had been quick indeed - perhaps it was the knowledge more than the intellect after all.

Still, she had been tested and that had been apparent. She knew the other liked to know, to understand and to absorb things quickly. She also liked to set the agenda and this time she had none of those things easily available - leastways the agenda. She had paced around and had even seemed irritable from the expression, concentrated deeply she had perhaps not known she had shown some trace of frustration. She had grinned at that, she was proving to be causing difficulty and she liked that - it meant stretching and thus growth could occur. She clapped as the destination was found, stepping a little uncomfortably after her.

“You want to go in there alone? A poor defenseless woman? No, no, no, I shall definitely come with you. Need a decent fighter around these parts. Body guard perhaps?” she grinned as the door was pushed open.

She looked up at the sign, battered and scarred. Not to mention so old and worn it was difficult to see what it had upon it unless you were looking carefully. It matched the alley perfectly, forgotten and tired. Still alive but strained with its own ferocity. She imagined it as a fire, ancient and powerful once but now naught but embers that burnt those who strayed too close. Stepping across the threshold it was easy to see why the tavern was so safe, its patrons were of the burly warrior type that were so very good at killing people for money. Mercenaries indeed and here they now got a glimpse of a female of their particular species - as well as one of a less violent occupation but in some ways perhaps more preferable, in the body at least. She could feel their eyes follow her as they stepped towards the bar.

“Sure you’re sure?” she leant down slightly to whisper to the other woman, “well there is the man. Red for short. Note the hair. Cage fighter but still a warm sort if you’re wiling to pay. On that note…”

“Ale. Two. And that’s just for me” she leant against the bar as the silence grew longer, duller, “do your lads ever talk when they drink?” she asked with a small smile.

“Sometimes, some drink to forget. Some quiet like ‘fore pass out. Not too often see women in these parts though”

“Never seen one or just scared of them?”

“Hah! Bit of both…perhaps” he grunted as he placed two mugs before her.

She turned sideways and looked at Fallon, her eye slipped to Red quickly before darting away once more. She was intrigued as to how the challenge would be won, if it were to be.
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The Paper Trail [Fallon]

Postby Fallon on July 5th, 2014, 10:10 pm

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There was a long moment of silence, her brow meeting together as she seemed to brood quietly. Cheeks puffed, eyes darted about back and forth as she tried to pick the faces out from the few that existed there. Words turned and flickered, her lip pursing into a line as she simply repeated the words within her head. They went round, were broken down as she unfolded the scene that was happening before her. There was a blink, gloved hands gently resting upon the surface of the bar as she pulled back upon the paper once more. Why could it not be something simpler? Like point out the places that would make potentially good defensive points in which to work from - or good places to hide in. Her lips twitched, nostrils flared as she sucked in the room and its inhabitants.

'Red' as she had been pointed out was obviously the barkeep of the establishment, perhaps equally brooding with the way he responded to Zandelia and her idle conversation. Her hairs rose, the occasional glance over to the mercenaries that seemed to be presently drowning themselves in their tankards - if not for the look towards the other woman. Part of her prickled angrily at that, almost a bubbling protectiveness before it simmered down. It could not be helped, it would be something Fallon would have to begrudgingly put up with. Herself however, was barely given a glance - perhaps it was the way the red mop fell forward and the armour continued to serve in the boyish appearance. There was a second twitch, her finger idly tracing the surface.

"Sure I'm sure on what?" she mumbled finally, a figure of eight now being drawn out. She felt the cling of sweat upon her neck, skin thick and flushed in moisture and would continue to grow so as the day progressed. How many long until the Sun reached its peak? She shuddered at the thought, and turned her eyes up to Red. Her head cocked to one side almost quizzically, a series of blinks as she tried to work through the motions once more, "Sunberth has a lot of cage fighters, myself among them... technically speaking that is..." She drifted off after that, chewing upon her lip as she picked through things once more.

A vicious circle to say the least. She did not want to ask for help, because that came at its own costs and Fallon wanted to minimise that as much as possible. But then again she had the feeling she was going to be standing there for a very long time - or left to turn every stone in stumble alley over until she had an answer. Dry lips were licked, her head nodding towards the axe across the counter, "Guess that's not for show then?"
"Got that right..."
he gave another grunt as he let his eyes flicker to it for less than a beat, and then went back to what he was doing, "Split open a skull like an egg with a good swing."
"Done it a lot then in your cage fighting?"
She was answered only with a snort. Hands withdrew, her thumbs twiddling as she tried to pick through the pieces again. Snippets, conversation, a way to spur things on to an answer to this next riddle.

There was only a glance to Zandelia, and then down to the two mugs that were there - obviously she was well prepared for the wait for an answer. Chimes ticked on past, a long silence once more returning in the process. She did not look at the woman, not properly at least. There was undoubtedly that catlike smile upon her lips, devilish and enjoying the mental torment that Fallon was presently circling with very little to go on. Gloved fingers rubbed at her forehead, and then the eyes glanced down to the ribbon upon her wrist. It was slowly that she pulled upon it, the fabric loosening from its hold upon and dangling in the air. She thumbed it for a moment, studying the red grain within it before she reached up with the same hand to the blue ribbon. It slid away from the sticking skin, a gentle uncurling of the material as she let both colours rest upon her digits. Her gaze turned solely to Zandelia then, gaze locking as she attempted to instil some sense of focus. With that she simply extended them out for her to take.

"I don't know the answers," she finally said in a matter of fact tone. It was obvious by her expression she was not pleased with the idea of surrendering, but there was a look of understanding that she could not necessarily know everything about a particular place. And beneath that all was the inner berating of not knowing mixed in with the self ridicule of not living up to expectations, "As in, really don't. You win. Enlighten the uneducated."
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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
The Red Wolf
 
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