Closed Place Called home

(Zandelia) Purchase ahoy!

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Place Called home

Postby Fallon on September 17th, 2014, 9:03 pm

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1st Autumn 514AV

Autumn was well and truly in Sunberth, the leaves had finally taken on the golden glow, the air crisper and sweeter smelling than the tang of summer. Heat had lifted, and in response the faint trickling of the northern winds begun to creep their way southwards. Farmers had begun to turn their heads to the prospect of their crops and the harvest, and the hunters thought only on the last pickings of stocks. It was the time to tighten belts and prepare for the long winter. At least that was in other civilisations, in Sunberth it was just another day of drink and debauchery, to lie within the gutter and waste the day. But not for Fallon. No, there was much more important and urgent matters to tend to than plain idleness.

Sweat begun to roll, the coat barely flapping behind her as she made a beeline towards the Sunset Quarters. Legs strained, the kukri - being the only weapon she had chosen to take with her for speed sake - clattering gently in its back sheath. Feet thundered, chest heaved, her hand tightly grasped around the papers in her fist and a broad grin having wrapped itself around her face. Excitement commanded her, the adrenal pulsing and racing up through. A sharp pivot of a turn as she took a short cut down the alleyway, sliding past a set of bemused locals as she pushed past them - barely the echo of an apology as she continued to dash. Lungs sucked in the air and exhaled out hot, but she kept the pace despite the gradual growing of strain within her legs.

Fallon had never ran so fast before, but then again, she had never had a true driving reason outside of escape to push herself so hard. It was to be a good day, because for once everything was starting to come together. She nearly tripped into the Sunset Quarters, her mind racing as she flickered through the information that played within her head. She had seen it herself, the empty state, the way it stood and seemed to stand, the structure even. It all seemed in place as had been discussed and written, all that was left now was simple process of obtaining. Which was why Fallon had taken up such speed.

Her steps tripped as she dashed up the steps to the apartment, an entire crunching thud as she grappled her way up. But that did not stop her, even as her fingers searched for the key within her pocket. The door was greeted with urgency, hand shaking as the adrenal begun to starve at her and the breaths began to labour. Inside she could hear the yapping of Orvin, but presently that did not matter - not even as she swung open the door and was greeted by him. She pushed him away, eyes bright as the door slammed shut behind her. Her attention was fixed solely forward.

It was with a broad step that the paper in her hand were thrust forwards and towards Zandelia, the other swatting the canine away as he did his circling. The limb flapped them, and then promptly dropped them next to the woman before she broke down into little more than bubbling cackles - pure, childish, excitement. To begin with she spat words, a poor attempt as she tried to find something that made sense or was remotely legible. The finger however continued to point, the wax sealing and the script marking out details and conditions defined upon the parchement. It was then, only finally, that Fallon managed to speak.

"The build. The build!" She shook her head realising it made little sense, "House. Quay area. That stretch of lan- read it. Just read it! Coin, stuff." She gave a firm point, "They'll sell to us. Bring your Mizas Zandelia! Sign over at midday. Come on! Up! Up!"

Long gone was the days of rented accommodation, now it was the time to actually own a place called home.
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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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Place Called home

Postby Zandelia on September 18th, 2014, 3:28 pm

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Peace, deep and if not quite meaningful then at the very least relaxing. She had taken her promise to do nothing very seriously indeed, had decided that – for now – even leaving the apartment that had been rented for the short term was considered a ‘something’. /such things were to be avoided at that moment, she had had enough of the violent streets for a time, had killed too many people in Summer, spent too many nights with rubble as a pillow or a blanket and body heat her only warmth. She was not old but nor was she young enough to spend a season in such conditions and not feel the strain. As such she had taken the executive decision to sleep the day away – for once. She had heard Fallon leave earlier, felt the lack of her presence but she was safe behind a locked door and had merely rolled over and pulled the flimsy excuse for a pillow over her head in response.
There were no worries when she was asleep, the nightmare and dark interiors had been shattered two seasons ago now, replaced instead with a sense of the void. It was dark and empty but it was hers and there were no threats. She had faced her enemies and had been victorious. No doubt new ones would arise, the faces of lost children dead in the mud was haunting but not a constant tugging at her psyche. They hadn’t been hers, had never even been under her protection. She felt bad about it, terrible even, but it didn’t dictate her life or lose her sleep. People died after all.
On a long enough timeline everything’s survival chance goes to zero… the thought echoed within her safe, warm cocoon of coverings.
The assault began, distant at first but growing closer, louder. The battering at her consciousness akin to an army tramping across a wooden dock, repetitive and quick were the resounding thuds, estopping for a short time and she sighed heavily as she was pulled ever so slightly out of her sleep, the upper echelons of respite. There was a strange and jauntily eerie jingling, building and rebounding the sound until she finally was forced to give a stir and frowned as she groaned and breathed as best she could with her face rammed into a straw mattress. Hands shifted beneath her, pins and needles making their complaints known as limbs were freed from pressure and fingers jabbed and rubbed at her face and eye. The sound of the lock, she pushed the pillow off of her head and rolled onto it.
“Hmm? Wassat?” she responded to the tidal wave of emotion the only way she knew how to upon waking up – confusion.
That was all she managed to get out before being interrupted and what could be considered a half-diatribe blossomed and gushed out of the other woman. To say she was surprised was an understatement and she was beginning, in the back of her mind, reassess whether she was truly safe. She was facing now a very dangerous entity indeed, an eager Fallon with an over-abundance of exuberance. There was a small moment when she looked down at the covers and wished she were able to pull them back over herself but she knew there was no escaping this energy – difficult to understand as it was. She was curious enough as to what had garnered such enthusiasm that she took the parchment silently with but a raised eyebrow as she levered herself up to lean upon the headboard and rubbed her face once ore with her free hand.
“You do know I have just awoken? I can’t translate well before I’ve eaten and had some bloody tea” she snorted as she began to read the words scrawled before her, “what the Hai are you talking about? Miza’s? Why would I ne-“ she asked but fell silent once more as the words were absorbed.

“We have a home? A real home? Not just a rented room somewhere…you’re talking about a house? But…this sounds more than a house…” she talked to herself as the very idea took shape.
She had thought of it before but finding decent property that was safe in Sunberth was almost akin to either impossibility or suicide. At the very least it was a statement that said – practically – ‘come and have a go if you think your hard enough’. This though, this sounded like a bloody compound and for that price she expected no less. It was an attractive concept, full of convenience and certainly a decent measure of opulence. It would be nice, for example, to sleep in a decent bed every night of the year. Still, she was filled with shock at it. She had not known Fallon had even been looking. She had always seemed to avoid the idea of settling somewhere for good.
“How long?” she asked, there was no need to add the rest of the question, she wanted to know how long the searching had been going on under her own nose without her notice, “and who’s the dealer?”
There was really little else her scattered and sleep addled mind could come up with at that moment.
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Place Called home

Postby Fallon on September 18th, 2014, 6:36 pm

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"A home! A home! Well... documents and information! Read it! " Fallon exclaimed rather loudly - the tremble of bubbling excitement and the voice becoming quick. Somewhere in the back of her mind niggled that Zandelia was perhaps only still awakening from sleeping, but that was pushed aside by the growing energy. It was important after all. She scrambled around the bed after that, feet quick as she begun setting herself to tasking. The few belongings they did have were quickly folded and stored within the packs, one of the women's blouses and trousers being tossed at her from across the room without a second thought. The boots thudded to a stop at the foot of the bed. The tulwars were bound onto the side of the pack, and with that she was off once more barely paying attention to Zandelia's half awakening comments.

"Tea! Food! Excellent idea," She gave a firm point to the woman then and then proceeded to hunt the various implements to begin such a creation. There was another clatter, the filling up of the kettle, the kneeling down next to the fireplace as she gathered the ash together, the tinder and twigs, before piling them up neatly. And then a curse when she could not locate the flint and steel quickly enough. Gloves were ripped off and tossed backwards somewhere, and Fallon promptly moved onto the alternative - reimancy. Hindsight would no doubt later dictate it as a surprise to the woman, but presently the entire focus was on making fire. Somehow, it was still something she was not completely sure on what to do.

Clapping both hands together she proceeded to rub them, her brow creasing as she focused. She thought of the res, the pale gas that was generated within the body. She thought of the scars, the entrance of it, the brutal initiation. The insides of her palms itched as she focused, the slow and steady process pushing it out. The palms pressed together, rotated gently as they built up pressure, and then slid apart - pulling the thick strand of leafy green, gel res across her skin where it bubbled forth. It reminded her of sap, the tactile texture almost appealing as she rubbed it between her fingers. She focused, rubbing her hands together once more as she strands were focused and pulled together into a ball. Her pulse quickened slightly - eyes blinking as she took it in. She really needed to practice more, and thus she promised herself she would after the events of the day. It peeled away from the skin, slowly barely hovering a inch above the flesh as she focused. A roll of sweat was already beginning to find itself tracing her cheek.

Teeth clenched slightly, the right pulling away and taking the res orb with it -the arm trembling as it was held adjacent to the wood. She puffed, letting it hover as she held the orb over the fire, her lips pealing back to reveal a slither of white as she focused entirely on it. Eyes blinked slowly, the world behind her falling into a muted silence. She hissed, words barely escaping as she focused. Fire, flame, ignite - it was the tool she needed and so she forced the image to start within her mind. She spat in ancient tongue, "Vaknui!"

A spark, a hiss, it rippled as it grew warmer and clicked almost with a pop into the thin layer burst into flame, rippling and spreading quickly onto the surface. It licked, spluttering and smouldering across the wood. Blackening, she let her focus slip and her shoulders slump as the rest of the res became enflamed and promptly set the wood on fire. Rocking back onto her heels she poised the kettle over the fire, and proceeded to turn her gaze back to Zandelia. There was a wiry grin, the once bubbling excitement having died down into a more focused study. She gave only a nod as she proceeded to gather whatever little food stuffs were about along with various cutlery for food.

"Yep, a real home. Well, bigger than a home, but still a home," She gave an old frying pan a turn, and promptly looked for the remaining food scraps - salted bacon and eggs being among them. There was a turn of some oil, before she once more positioned it above the flames and waited for it to warm. It was there she took the moment pause and turned her attention to the woman solely, "Real home. Masonry, walled... few decades ago used to be a pen, fell into disuse, got abandoned, flattened and rebuilt. And well... that's where we are now."

She shrugged, her attention turning to the hissing of the oil and the next port of call. Bacon was thrown on, poked gingerly with the spoon before the eggs were cracked over it. With that going on she split her attention, carving up bread into slices, the occasional poke of the food as it fried away and then the hissing of the kettle - which she promptly took off the heat and begun to brew the leaves in. Blinking, her head cocked to one side, "Is that alright? I mean... I sort of did it without asking...?"

"Long enough,"
Fallon chimed back. There was only a grin as she gave the frying pan a judder. Everything was cooking quickly, "Come on. Up! Food is almost done. We haven't got much time anyway." She paused then, turning her head properly to the woman as she begun the process of serving up, if not with some serious wobbling, "The dealer? Eduard Shannon. Was his father who owned it to begin with, he died and now wants to sell it to move on to better pastures while he still could. Can't blame him really... Pretty damned old. Anything else?"
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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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Place Called home

Postby Zandelia on September 18th, 2014, 7:51 pm

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It was a bemusing state of affairs to be sure, awakening to find not just an excited partner but also have something so huge quite literally thrust underneath her nose. She was not mentally awake, not really, and the time given to process the information had been limited at best. It was with a distant look upon her face that she watched the ensuing activity, a storm of both delight and – it seemed to her at least – some deep reservoir of previously repressed energy. She had been looking for a long time, she stated as much without really giving an impression of exactly how long and so it was assumed it had been quite a while. Had she been this eager the whole time but hidden it well? Or was this just the result of the sudden realization of desire? She shook her head to clear the mental cobwebs and pinched her brow.
“Long enough means some time…you wanted to surprise?” she asked, flailing about for something central to latch herself onto and provide a basis for thought.
It did not help her sense of stability that the immediate reaction to her sleep addled words was to set about getting a breakfast and a cup of liquid stimulation ready, not to mention the fact her clothing slapped into her face quite neatly, the thudding behind her temporary blindness she presumed were her boots. It was not that she was not grateful, she appreciated fully that Fallon had taken it upon herself to look after her of late. No one else ever had and it was a rare treasure. Yet still she had just been awoken, had a deed of sale thrust at her and was being chivvied along quite adeptly. She pulled the clothing from her shoulder and looked at Orvin who was sat before her, staring quite happily.
“Last awake eh Orvin? Last awake,” she sighed as in response he proceeded to pad up to her and gave her face an almighty lick which she blanched at slightly but accepted with as good a grace as she could before wiping away the thin veneer of slobber and ruffing his ears a little, “very well. Dress yes?” she asked with resignation and as always he seemed to understand her and snorted in his own canine way.
At the very least it gave her some time to think and get her mind ordered, she was starting to lose her edge in some ways she thought. Good living and caring were eroding some of her more base instincts. A few years ago she would have been up out of bed with a dagger and standing behind the door just in case. It was not a regret, she reasoned as she pulled her shirt on and began to wriggle into her trousers, it was a realism and an observation. She would have to get back into some habits after her self-apportioned holiday. The boots followed the trousers and she was dressed, if far from presentable. By then most of her belongings had been stowed away and she was being promised food and drink that called to her senses and her stomach. He felt more awake now, if not at her best just yet.
“So…likely an old storage compound. Slaves probably. At least if it was then it’ll be put to better use. Poetic really, rising from its ashes as we did” she yawned as she reasoned out the sale, the motives behind it seemed sound enough and if it were stone ti was likely more stable than most of Sunberth.
“At least the price makes sense now, stone buildings are not common here. Last longer and usually easier to keep thieves out of. Larger than a home? So…we’re talking land and so on too? Makes sense, anyone who is anyone buys their own land, owns it because a piece of paper says so. Well…because their weapons say so really” she shrugged as she read over the missive once more, the list of characteristics was impressive, “and a…wall? Not many of those in Sunberth either. Looking to create your keep leader of mine?” she asked, it was slightly teasing as her energies began to mobilize properly now and the scents galvanized her appetites.
“And it’s fine, just reminded me that I don’t know everything is all. Quite dramatically too” she stated in her most dead pan of tones.
As she gave the time for the thought out response she accessed the deep recesses of her memory and tried to recall anything she knew about this family that now so desperately desired to leave Sunberth and sell everything their family owned to do so. There was always a reason and she would know that reason before she committed fully to purchasing land and building. She wanted to know it was all on the level, dignified and without any backstabbing.
“But yes…a place to call home. It’s rather…unbelievable. A real bed every night, somewhere to sit and be without having to deal with drunkards. And you can start that business you talked about so long ago now. Sounds nice” she mused aloud as she reclined backwards in thought.
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Place Called home

Postby Fallon on September 18th, 2014, 9:36 pm

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"Surprises keep you on your toes," the frying pan was given a shake from her crouched position before once more being returned to the heat - it was the tea that was served in the meanwhile. Glugging into the cups, Fallon gave it a small testing swirl and offered it over to the woman in a gesture. She heard Orvin pad about, his distinctive snort announcing his thoughts quite clearly to the room, before he gave a lazy pad over. It was not long after that he simply allowed himself to slump next to his master with a bemused expression formed. There was only a small ruffle of his side before she turned her gaze to the important thing at hand - tea. She cocked her head to one side briefly, "Though, it was less of an intention to surprise and more of proving I'm not incompetent at getting things."

"Yep, we're talking land too. Not a lot though in the grand scheme of things..." she paused her pouring for a moment and stared into the rippling depths of her own cup. She gave a blink down at the dark shadow reflected in it, and then continued, "But enough to allow quite a few opportunities. Also its position is good too, coastal. Means we can get imports without having to worry about making sure it securely gets through the city. And vice versa. Plus other things... sure when you're awake you'll be able to use your imagination for ideas."

There was a clatter, the nudge of Orvin's head against her back as he whined - no doubt he was also hungry with the way he was sniffing loudly. She gently pushed the head away, and focused once more from her perched position, "Mansory... brick. Stone... whatever. Suggests it has windows too. Yes. Real windows. How exquisite." She snorted, and carried on, "Think the back page has a layout of it, should give you a rough idea of size for you. Certainly beats visualising." Fire crackled, and it was with a few idle pokes that the pan was removed and the portions split up equally. It was only then that she passed the plate to the woman, "Enjoy. Eggs, bacon and bread - charred edition."

Silence ruled as she allowed herself to little more than indulge in what scraps were before her - if not passing the occasional rasher back to Orvin to chew upon. His sniffing for now fell silent. Lips licked, the occasional glance up as grease gave little more than a dribble free, "So, now we have both land and weapons... does that make us someone in Sunberth? Guess more than gangs in a sense because it's... well, beyond just territory grabbing. It's owning." She gave a general point, "Don't forget the old gatehouse. Think you might be right on it being an old slavers pen though, just thinking on the descriptions and the way it is. But the potential though... that's an interesting thought..."

Another bite and chew, followed by the firm licking of fingers - there was very little decadence or manners in her habits, and there was always the untidiness ever present. Tongue gave a dart, a lean back as she considered her thoughts, "Still... a wall. Guess that means we'll be secure if there is ever a riot... as long as we don't starve first. We should really sock up on supplies - for the winter too. Get them whilst the harvest season is going on an all. Else, we'll probably be grumpy for most of it." There was only the silent nodding to her thoughts as they were voiced, stringing together and forming into something useful. Another swallow, another slow blink as she finished her mouthful and spoke within a thoughtful tone, "I'm not building a keep for myself. I'm building a keep for people. Something to build and work up of. It might be small, but it's a start. Give them somewhere safe. Give them somewhere to hide and be at peace if they want to. Less than a keep and more of a... community?"

"Besides, why create a keep when I can just steal the ones the Daggers own?"
it was a bold statement, but it was made purely in jest - the darting of a tongue marked that. A final mouthful, and another collection of thoughtful chewing before her attention turned to her dark tea - it was how she preferred it anyway, "And of course, a real bed. Can even have your own room to sleep in if you so desire. No one to ever disturb you... or cuddle up to you for that matter. Though, you can always have Orvin I suppose if you're desperate." She chuckled into her cup, "Business... business... yes... that was a plan I was also going to do... I have a name for it you know." Her hand raised then as if to point to a large invisible sign in her mind and followed the letters along, "The Scarred Wolf Investigations, or the S.W.I. For short. Good huh? Or think you can do better?"

Standing she gave a stretch and a click, her eyes briefly glancing to the world outside and the still rising autumn sun. There was only a small frown then, the cup being placed down firmly as she rested upon her toes, "Best start believing it. Because we need to make a dash Sunshine if you want it to become real." A broad grin, the rising of the brow as she stretched the hand across the space between them, "Time is wasting, ready to take the castle for our own? Or are you still waking up, Lady Bedhead?"
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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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Place Called home

Postby Zandelia on September 19th, 2014, 5:37 pm

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It was with silence that the words were greeted, if you didn’t count the thanks given for the food and drink or the background noise of the consumption of what was self-admittedly quite a charred affair. It was actually preferred that way but she didn’t express that just then. She was caught up in something beyond the affairs of breakfast, something greater though it was hard to admit such a thing existed when her stomach was still relatively empty. There was little mannerism to it in terms of politeness but she possessed a mite more grace than Fallon did, she noted. Less grease everywhere and slightly more delicate mouthfuls.

Perhaps it is not just tea that reflects upon someone, but all manner of small things. I spend my time looking for informational tells but how often do I ask what the way someone eats could mean? she mused to herself, wisely keeping her own counsel for now.

It was with fondness that she watched the other two eat as she ate herself though, there was something to be said for enjoying a relaxed – if not entirely quiet by canine standards – meal. At the very least what hunger she had upon awakening had faded to almost nothing now and placing the plate to one side upon the dresser she took up her cup and began to drink from it, still warm but not quite hot enough to burn her mouth. That was until the new title was revealed and she choked slightly upon the warm tea and a portion of it decided to go the wrong way. A small series of coughs as she held the cup to the side slightly before settling back followed, to Fallon’s amusement no doubt.

“Well…with so many titles going around at least it wasn’t something too crude. Though, I suppose, that means we should all have one. Thank you for the meal, Lady Shinyfingers, just crispy enough” she responded in a bemused tone as she took up the parchment once more and flipped it over to gaze upon the rough diagram of a layout.

It seemed an impressive place by what she could tell, the wall and enclosed land was large enough – certainly for someone whom had never really owned property if you excluded owning thoughts or ideas. It had a gatehouse too for protection, the house itself seemed rather large and well equipped with several floors. She mapped it out mentally, a three dimensional model and found it to be far beyond satisfactory. She had to smile warmly, broadly, there was no other possible reaction to what she had been presented with now that she had had the time to process it fully. She folded the parchment and slipped it into the hip of her trousers before draining the remainder of her tea and placing the cup upon the plate.

“Well…I must thank you once more. I think this could be the start of something very good indeed. Or an extension perhaps. This idea of a safe haven intrigues me though, is it possible you plan to win over people through protective measures on a grand scale? If so, wouldn’t be hard to create a panic large enough to drive them into the land,” she suggested softly as she placed the cutlery down next to the rest and pulled her cloak over her shoulders, strapping on her weaponry beforehand as quickly as she dared, “though supplies shouldn’t be too difficult. We have enough between us to buy a hundred portions more than we would ever need. Harvest time is cheap time. Lots of goods to sell, price goes down – supply and demand so some call it”

“And no, I think I like sleeping arrangements just the way they are. Cheeky little pup. I believe the name describes its owner quite aptly, she is quite the warrior I hear. A red warrior in fact. As for business…well I’ll likely delve into my own. Never needed somewhere to keep my services but it might be nice to work out of a nice secure place for once. Who knows, hmm?”

She settled and brushed her clothing down, checked the weapons for the requisite stability upon her form, that she could pull them well enough if required. She even wore the throwing knives upon her left shoulder now, they would need to carry everything they had if they were now moving in after all. A quick wash of what had been used, sowing it away with the rest and then heaving her own packs over her left shoulder. Turning she tilted her head and blew a little kiss. Yes, it was going to be an excellent day indeed.

“Well come on the my lady, take me and my miza’s to this place that would be our haven for the downtrodden and disenfranchised. Dramatic enough?” she asked after sweeping her hand across herself theatrically.
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Place Called home

Postby Fallon on September 19th, 2014, 8:01 pm

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"Yes, Dramatic enough," There was only a smirk to the violent coughing of her companion, and then a waggle of a greased digit in mockery. Wiping the ends on her trouser leg, she proceeded to clean up what was left without a second thought, ensured the last of things were packed away and did a final sweep of the room. Cloak, coat, weapons, the few blankets that they owned, those little niggling goods, before she hoisted up her own pack. There was a firm nod, a low whistle and clicking of fingers to the wolf, "Orvin, come here. Come on, to heel." And with that, they were off with a playful wink and a quick step.

A clinking noise followed after them as they walked, the familiar weight of a load upon her shoulders with every single step. Orvin walked in pace, ears pricking as he wedged himself between them both and gave a snort when ever another came near. It was the rubbing of gloved fingers that kept him there for the moment at least, his eyes flickering with occasional wariness to a slightly drunken stranger. It was Fallon however who cleared her throat and forced down the rolling lilt of her normal voice and worked upon the harsh tones of her Bitzer persona. They were in public after all, and whilst it would have be pleasant to continue being herself even she knew it was not safe to do so.

"I am pleased to know you approve of the description then," she gave a look ahead, shoulders rolling back and her chin lifting as she lead them through the streets, paused then slipped into one of the alleyways - it was a short cut towards the docks, she hoped. The kukri gave a clink, and there was a glance to the tulwars she had strapped to the pack instead - no need for them she hoped. A flicker of the curl of lips, and a glance back as if to try and understand what was going through the woman's mind before she faced forward once more, "Yes. Security, a rare treasure in Sunberth, so let us not waste it and instead build upon it."

Left, then right, cutting once more into another street as she turned her attention round. Occasionally there was a glance up to the sun, an attempt to guess the time and how much they had left. It was her steps that quickened in response, and the dirt ground of the city was met hard, "Protection, not necessarily on a grand scale, but certainly enough to be noticeable. And I'm sure there will be plenty of times where the people are driven hard enough panic in the future - remember the riots?" She gave a glance back then, "A lot of people may have been hiding, but there was also a lot who were looking to hide. And could not, for their homes turned to splinter." She frowned, and turned her head forward then, the cooled tone escaping, "If they want a place to hide, to feel safe... then that is what they shall get. I don't want to see a massacre on those who do not wish to be involved again."

Taking in a deep breath, she caught the scent of salt and docks upon the air, and gave a firm pivot round to that general direction. It still would be some time before they arrived at their destination, and so small snippets of idle conversation was to be had in the meanwhile, "Extension? We could. What did you have in mind? Or are the thoughts still going round and the mind struggling to form any real thought? Perhaps we should just get things signed off before making any more commitments. Yes, that sounds best. Still, the possibilities..."

In honesty, Fallon was still having a hard time grasping the reality of what was going on before her. A long dream and something she had not deemed possible for a very long time indeed - she was a traveller by nature after all, but here she was putting down routes. It was certainly a change - for better or for worse would only be known in time. Still, for the moment she would not complain, what else was she to spend the coin on? One could only purchase so much armour and weapons - else it was rather useless. Another inhale, a gentle rocking stretch out as she saw the flicker of glances from the locals and gave only a burn back. Their gaze shifted quickly after that. No, she was in too good of a mood to go itching for a fight or look for trouble.

Beyond the whistle of the docks greeted them, and it was with a turn that her hand rose and pointed to the worn stone walls of the compound off in the distance, "And there it is, the Quay. Bit of an understatement of a name given the size of it..." she shrugged, a quick beating of a step as she pivoted and looked back. A challenge rested in her gaze, a snort as both master and furry companion looked almost expectantly, "So... with a target in sight," There was a quick skip away, her brow raised as the speed picked up until finally she was several paces away - speed increasing as she went. It was then she hollered, "Race you to the finish line Web!"

Fallon did not look back. Legs picked up, toes pressed as she spurred herself on with the load as fast as she could along the bay. A deep inhale, the back straightening as the wolf pounded the ground next to her, the quick steps and pivots as she barely avoided bumping into angry sailors. She was in a good mood, and it would take a lot to sour it. Whether or not Zandelia followed was her choice, the target was set, and with the shape looming ever close with every step and the waiting shape of an elderly man hovering by the entrance did she continued to push on. Regardless, he watched their approach with a toothy grin and gave a croaking welcome as she arrived panting, "Ah. Bitzer... was wondering where you had gotten too lass."
"Mister Shannon,"
came the panted reply. There was a glance to the mad beating tail or Orvin, before her gaze turned to the worn gatehouse, "This is-"
"Yes, this is it. You know that. Come through, and... your companion? Few things to sign... and keys?"
he rolled the iron ring with a selection of keys upon it of various sizes. He gave a lean onto his walking cane then, a look beneath his bushy brow at the pair of them. It was only then the faint, almost regretful sigh escaped him, "If only I was thirty years younger. Oh well, it is life. Shall we?"
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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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Place Called home

Postby Zandelia on September 19th, 2014, 9:09 pm

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Stepping out into the world again, something she had told herself that she would not do until her little holiday was over, her time of peace and reflection up. She had planned to use the time today for practising the new ability Fallon had generously endowed herself with but the was now a distant flicker, a mere acknowledgment that there would be many other days to come, days spent somewhere more secure and stable. She reasoned, on some level, that it could only help her achieve the calm and focus required for such self-explorations. Or at least to achieve them without much injury sustained to her still semi-unfamiliar form. She noted still that, though she had recovered enough for full mobility, she still felt slightly…overbalanced. As if she were a bit larger in feeling then before.

Put on some weight Zandelia, and you had such a fine figure too. Time and exercise she said…an apt description indeed she scoffed at herself internally as she followed in Bitzer’s wake now.

It was the way the shoulders became more squared, the accent falling away into rougher tones and the more purposefully fluid movement that were the indicators, they were in public once more. It was becoming slightly tiresome really, the keeping up of pretences in order to generate some viable cloak of safety. Autonomy outside of business was a powerful shield, the idea they were merely in it together on things which desires met and fused appropriately. She was beginning to see, however, that the charade was becoming thin indeed. Too many people had been watching them, hunting them and no doubt talking about them for the status quo to last beyond perhaps the Fall season – they would need a new countermeasure. Not that she cared much anymore, she had fought beside Fallon so many times that it might as well have been made a formal declaration of partnership – in one form or another.

“Good afternoon chaps, don’t mind her...look…just means she likes you” she whispered conspiratorially as she walked in Fallon’s wake. The tone was lighter and more melodious then her usual one, she might as well develop an affected accent to match the other’s she reasoned.

Though truly I plan an entirely new guise developed from the bottom up…all in due time. And I have time aplenty now there are no real threats left to us. Outside of the Daggers and so on of course. But they seem quiet, licking their wounds no doubt she mused as she kept up her jovially cheeky veneer to the hidden smiles behind hands of passer’s-by.

She couldn’t help but shake her head in amazement at the almost bursting excitement in the other, so long a traveller now deciding to buy a property and so usually calm yet affected by it. She did not pretend it did not affect her at all either but this was purest energy of the almost hyper sort. A race in fact, not particularly difficult despite the head start. She had not spent all those seasons running messages for Tua to lose a footrace to anyone and though she was burdened she pumped her legs with al of her might. Breathing regulated as evenly as possible though becoming ragged towards the end, red cheeks indicating the exertion as she slid around corners and followed – the race was lost before it began seeing as she had no idea where to go in truth. Still she made it a close run affair, directly at the other’s shoulder with a taunting grin.

“If you were thirty years younger you’d still find that I am still a very difficult woman to get on her back,” she retorted, giving Fallon a small look, “so…this is the property. Not bad, how old is it? Good repair and so on?” she asked, the start if basic questions she would ask before handing the gold over.

“Perhaps a tour before the gold and the ink? Once more around the familial lands for sentiment and memory’s sake?” she posed it as a question though really there was a steel to the words that showed it for what it was – a demand.

She was cautious by nature, did not doubt Fallon had investigated things herself but she was her own person and made her own decisions. She would make it based upon observed value, not ascribed potential. She loved Fallon for her optimism but she was a cynic at heart. A romantic cynic perhaps – which was a contradiction she realised – but enough of a cynic to know negotiations went best if you took the initiative by the throat.

“And my name is Web Mister Shannon,” she patted his shoulder in lieu of shaking his hand, “an I’m really a nice, upstanding woman when you get to know me” she smiled then as disarmingly as she could muster.
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Place Called home

Postby Fallon on September 20th, 2014, 3:01 pm

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Fallon gave only a glance back to Zandelia, still panting as she looked between them both. She understood the woman's paranoia, she had felt it herself when the entire prospect fell into her lap. Raising an eyebrow she gave only a wiry smile to the man, who in return only shrugged. There was a point through the open gates, the large set of thick, oaken doors and then the steady hobble in that direction. The keys for the meanwhile were tucked behind his back and held within his wrinkled fingers. He was obviously no fool and took the woman's suggestion in good stead, "Come then, I shall show you this stone among the wood. As you can see some of it is a bit worn, still strong and standing - if not lost some of its fancier charms."

There was only a laugh from the old man, the firm shake being given easily in return, "Upstanding eh? Keep selling yourself like that and I may have to try send you off to see my eldest. Such a strange lad he is. Could do with a straight woman to keep him in line." He frowned, shook his head clearly a look of disappointment upon his face. There was only a nudge to Zandelia in the ribs, followed by a whisper, "Seems your new in-law approves."

It was clear upon entering that the gatehouse was a solid construct, the cool stone greeting them. The grooves running marking a portcullis was an interesting feature in itself. There was a testing poke as she contemplated the contraption to raise and lower it, a tentative prod before she continued on. Another set of matching doors greeted them, and beyond that the land that was before them. Hardened earth, thin and full of pebbles, the high walls marking it out as a compound greeting them. Eduard gave only a big sweeping wave to the place and the dirt path cut by cart wheels, "Here we are, not a lot here really outside of the house, empty space. Though, if you look carefully you'll see where the old foundations are in the ground." By the house entrance a worn cart stood, the draft horse still and standing as it was loaded by a younger man, "Don't mind my youngest, he's just moving some of the more personal effects out. Shouldn't be too long."

Fallon gave a nod, taking a step back she took the slower pace to survey the compound without the retelling of history this time. The Old man gave a cough as he lead them across the way, a small run down of the place, "Been in the family for decades. My Grand Papa got it... must have been when those mages were about some sixty years ago. Was a slaver, but the rebellion ruined him lost his stock and couldn't make up the numbers or repairs. Bankrupted him because he refused to let it go. As did my father. Eventually, it came down onto me. Kept the main house in as good of condition as possible, but flattened the rest. Was falling apart anyway."

Sighing he lead them round the back to the small docks, "Still, kept the docks. Private like, no trouble from others a lot of the time. Good place to sit and watch the world go by, or fish. Don't know if you ladies are interested in things like that at all? Though, heard you're a bit of a mercenary Bitzer. Maybe you are."
"I'm a lot of things,"
she gave a nonchalant shrug in response. Only the clacking of the cane was the response for the moment - though she could only imagine the turning of the lips into some smile. There was little more than a blink, as she shifted the weight of her pack as he took pause around the back of the building and to the back doors. It was clear that they were there designed to be swung open in the summer and let the air through. The old eyes gave a stare out across, drinking in the view before turning in to the building itself. The keys were pulled round, and it was a brass one that he used to unlock the back door.

"Have to say the house is a few decades too. This isn't the original after all. Did it up again right through a year or so ago though - no problems as far as I know," he gave the door a firm pull, and gestured inside for them to inspect in their own time. Plain, simple, and clean, with a large fire pit with a copper chimney rose up in the centre and through the roof above. From there the various doors and stairs lead off both upstairs and down. There was only a clap together of his hands and the gentle wobbling against his cane, "Well all yours to look at. No damp or rot. Nor cracking as far as I know." There was a shuffle, the faintest of groans upon the floor as the man eased himself down onto the bench. Another toothy grin, his brow raised as he looked upon them both and gently shooed them off with his hand, "Go on, look around. I'll be right here waiting when you're ready."

Lowering the bag to the floor with a clunk Fallon stretched and begun a second, careful study. Gloves were pulled off, the bare digits wiggling the air before she gently rapped her knuckles against the surface - listening intently for a anything that did not sound normal. Nostrils twitched, the Lykata gently buzzing as she traced the edges and gave a nod to what was about. It was only then, quietly that she mumbled to Zandelia, "So, what do you think. Honestly?"
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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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Place Called home

Postby Zandelia on September 20th, 2014, 7:01 pm

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She merely snorted at the comments that followed her suggestion of innocent good citizenship of Sunberth, a rare enough thing to be sceptical of but the offer of his son’s hand clearly a saddening prospect given that having as much gold as they did between them was suspicious to most minds, let alone Sunberth minds. The fact that he then went on with his comments bored her somewhat though she hid it behind a congenial smile and a pat of the shoulder in response to his prod, his words were wandering in some ways and perhaps less focused than they would have been had he been younger. She allowed him the lack of dignity of his years, following him and watching Fallon between making her own assessments.

Think the way you want, not the way others do. She can cover her perspectives, I’ll cover mine. In bargaining always approach from your own corner, leave the others to fight theirs. Don not be selfish but always look for personal priorities she noted to herself, putting aside her willing eagerness to own her own property and instead opting for a cool, calculating logic.

“Oh, keeping people in line isn’t the problem. It’s all about presence” she stated jovially.

“Hah! So it is” was all he said in response as an aside, clearly occupied with other thoughts for a few moments.

She took the opportunity to look around the Gatehouse, not overly large but it certainly looked to be reasonably secure. The mechanism for dropping the gate was certainly a surprise and put her initial concerns over security of such a large property by city standards to the side slightly. Certainly sturdy and if dropped down though probably rusted would buy quite a bit of time indeed. The walls from the outside were high enough that it was not possible to grab them just by jumping and so that was also another – if more minor – barrier which allayed her fears. She wanted security above all and it seemed to pass that particular test. They moved on relatively smoothly and stepping into the compound it was surprisingly spacious – no buildings outside the obvious of course but space for other things if ever desired.

“I have not been inclined to fish, though it tastes nice no doubt. But passing the time in peace? I can certainly appreciate hat. Lie is difficult enough, I can see why you would have a place to retreat from it no?” she stated softly, almost thoughtfully perhaps.

All in al she was so far impressed with what had been found for them. The land was small but still larger than most possessed, the walls perhaps in need of some tinkering but mostly sound if the gatehouse and surrounding visuals were anything to assume by. The small private dock was a little ramshackle from disuse but still sturdy enough to be worth some gold spent for access to it. It also offered opportunity beyond the gatehouse for both importing goods and retreat if ever required. They had no boat but that wouldn’t be so difficult to rectify really, if you knew the right people and were willing to front up the coin. The exterior of the main house was decent if a bit weathered as they approached, entering and passing across the threshold. It was not long before they were given free rein to investigate and she was approached by her partner for counsel – slightly amusing given she had taken the autonomy to broker this deal.

“Excuse me good man whilst I confer with my colleague” she gave him a warm smile and a semi-theatrical bow as she stepped to the side to join the other woman.

“I like it, so far that is. Good exterior does not excuse a poor interior so a tour of the rooms we will be living in would be needed before a final decision…but it has…promise,” she all but whispered back as she placed her packs down in a corner for now, “that gatehouse could keep us solid and secure for some time if it came to it. All you’d need is a decent core of loyal men and you’d hol this place indefinitely if supplied decently I’d think. The dock intrigues me too, very possible tos et up some form of private business and even a hub for information gathering…few people use the river for such things as far as I know. An…unexpected potential” she smiled a little, flashing so as not to give the game away regarding negotiation, “land large enough to do a few smaller things with too perhaps. Certainly enough to provide refuge if that’s on the cards. Still…the interior is what matters. No point having the glamour if it’s rotten within” she tied up her current thought process neatly there.

“Shall we?” she asked as she set off on a small circuit of the ground floor, eye open for any signs of true decay or damage.
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