Journey To Punch A Git In The Face (Fallon)

[Ignotus Everto]

30th of Spring, 515AV

Ignotus loved the smell of skullduggery in the morning. The Nuit had left his office after a fine night of scheduling meetings with desperate debtors harboring dark secrets, checked his mail, found a letter regarding a Council member's spouse having an affair and a flyer for a detective agency, and decided he would help grow small businesses in Zeltiva by going and spending some money in one while getting some strategic undergarments in the process.

In short, the wizard was ready for a morning spent almost completely in his element, needing only an eager soul to seduce and maybe some nice arcane literature to feel completely comfortable. The Lord of Council didn't feel like loudly announcing his identity as he strolled down the pleasant, sea-salt-and-marble scented streets of the Old Quarter in search of the flyer's address, so he had selected his black fur cloak, same-colored shirt and pants, and purple brocade vest to wear.

After a small search, Ignotus found himself in front of a simple door with a simpler plaque. Scarred Wolf Investigations. "Quite a morbid name." he mused to himself as he rapped on the door a couple times. "If I'm lucky," thought Ignotus, "I might even find a bit of fun!"

"Pardon me," the wizard said to whoever was receiving clients as he stepped inside the office, "Is this the private detective?"

[Fallon]

Fallon had a headache of a metaphorical nature. She had been staring down at the desk for a while, the loose collection of notes and names and of course the crude outline of the city of Zeltiva spread out across the majority of it. She had taken to pursue easier things today, or seemingly so with her current assignment - aligning up information upon the various topics of study. The fingers peeled away from her brow, a lean back in her chair. The tea was to the left side, still warm and to her liking. On the opposite right of the desk sat the kukri within its sheath, the weight feeling heavier today than the previous.

With a click she turned her gaze to the open office window, her eyes coming down into narrows as she surveyed the world beyond. Below the street was humming with the voices of passer's by, the faint cawing of stores and gulls in the distance. And it was warm, or at least she felt warm - but that may have also been due to the angle in which the window captured the sunlight. With a long slurp of her tea, her attention once more focused on the map.

That was until there was knock at the door. She answered with a, "It's open."

Her gaze flickered up briefly, the orbs tracing the shape that entered - pale, suit, dark under eyes, near all black apart from the vest, a widower or just a preference for darker shades? She gave a tug at her own blouse collar then, lighter shades before she brought herself to rise from behind the desk. The gloved finger tips pressed onto the desk surface, and the woman gave a polite nod to the older gentlemen, "Yes Sir, this is the Scarred Wolf Investigations and I, Miss Skylar, am its private investigator, detective and inquirer of various interests." Her gaze moved to the armchairs positioned before the desk, the hand raising to gesture to them, "How may I assist you? Please, by all means take a seat Sir."

She was already in the process of moving her current work neatly into a pile and tucking them into the draw - the map was folded and placed to one side. With certain movements she summoned forth her writing tools, a popping of the ink vial cork. Posed and ready, she sat herself back down into the chair. What did the dark shadows beneath the eyes mean? That dead look, "Would you like a drink at all? Tea perhaps?"

[Ignotus Everto]

"A fascinating choice of name, Miss Skylar." the Nuit said with a courteous smile as he sat. "I imagine it would make for very eye-catching mascots."

Ignotus waved away the offer of tea. "No, thank you. I don't drink." Glancing at the contents of the desk, Ignotus raised an eyebrow at the presence of the kukri. He supposed private investigation had its dangers, particularly if she was forced into particularly nasty parts of East Street, but it was quite a curious thing to have laying about in the Old Quarter, unless she thought it good advertising, or she believed she would need it/

Mere ticks after this thought went through Ignotus' head, the door flew open to reveal a wild-eyed man with greasy brown hair, dusty, frayed clothes and nasty yellowed teeth. He stank of must and cheap alcohol, though the booze smell may have been from the bottle he gripped in his hand. A burning rag was stuck in its neck. He shouted something that was virtually unintelligible to Ignotus, but to Fallon sounded something along the lines of " M'ere fer t'venge m'Jimm ya bleedin' skank!", then promptly hurled the bottle at the armchairs and ran off.

The bottle shattered upon striking the arm of the chair, spreading flaming alcohol across the seats and floor. Some of it caught onto the hem of Ignotus' cloak, and flames spread hungrily across the garment as the Nuit closed his eyes and made a motion akin to turning meditation balls in his hand. Thin droplets of electric blue gel began to seep from his palm and fingers, coalescing into an apple sized orb after a few ticks. With a flick of his wrist, the wizard sent the ball whizzing to the center of the room, every flame in the office following it and clumping around the Res. Focusing on the substance of his Res and opening his hand, Ignotus willed it into a gas and sent it puffing outward. As it passed over the flames, they transformed into harmless water. With a clench of his fist, the gas collapsed back into a ball, the water vanished in a puff of wind, and the Res itself flowed back into Ignotus through his nose.

While any immediate danger to the two was gone, the fire had still done considerable damage. An armchair's seat and back had been ruined, the floor was sooty and singed, and worst of all (to Ignotus), his cloak was in tatters! "That petcher, this was new!" cried the wizard as he bolted to his feet and cast the destroyed garment aside. "To Dira with the treasurer's wife, this is personal."

Turning back to Fallon with a tight smile, Ignotus asked with the same tone one would use to invite someone to a wine tasting "Miss Skylar, would you care to assist me in hunting this git down?"

[Fallon]

"Names are everything. And this one is in theory a memorable one," she remained standing, watching the man take a seat before the desk. His declining of a drink was met with a respectful nod - but the information was pocketed away for further information. Her gaze continued to trace him, gaze neutral as she took in the thinness of face and drew up her conclusions. Nuit - the word shuddered through her mind and left an unpleasant chill down her spine. She let a low chuckle escape from her throat, "Yes, quite interesting ones I do agree."

A crash of noise, she caught the blur of movement as the door swung open. She heard the garbled accent - Sunberthian it seemed to her - the words coming second translated in her mind. The body did not move, muscles tensing and tightening, the chin tilting as she stared him down. For the moment the mild mannered expression of Fallon Skylar was pushed to one side. In its place rose the face of the Red Wolf, brow creasing into a frown and the muscles of the face pulling back into a wolfish expression. Fury filled her gaze, the hand beginning its slide over to the kukri as the bottle was thrown and promptly smashed.

By the time the fire started she had already managed to grasp the blade tightly and rammed it tightly into the leg sheath, the steps leading her round swiftly. She gave a pause, watching the flames crackle and the smell of smoking fabric filling her nose. Fire. Tend to it. Look after the territory first. She barely managed to kick the chair to the floor to begin violently stamping upon the back of it by the time the Nuit had begun his showing. She took a step back, eyeballing him carefully as the res flowed, the jaw tightening for a moment as suspicion begun to rear its head. Nuit. Magic - the first thought was Sahova. Did they want something? Was he one of them?

Regardless he was a reimancer, and it was such knowledge over what he had done that made her wary. What did he want? Why did he make such a show without concern of others and their reaction? Perhaps he was confident in his position in the city that he believed he could get away with such acts. But that lead to the question of who was he exactly?

"Personal sir?" She gave him a wide birth, watching the flames fade and die into a puff, "I can see why? I mean," she paused and looked to the man, reining back the expression to one of control as she gathered her addled thoughts together. She could not give too much away now, "They are rivals to you? Hence their actions," Fallon's gaze lowered to the soot covered floor and the shards of broken glass. Stooping down she picked the larger pieces up and moved them onto a large scrap of paper upon her desk, "If it is assistance and investigation services you are looking for, then no need to look any further Mister...?"

His name, she did not have his name - and she doubted that he wanted to be known as just 'Sir' for the rest of the process. With a stride to the door she took up her jacket and threw it on over the blouse before continuing, "Rough one he was. Did you manage to get a good look of him? I believe if we make some haste we may see evidence in the direction he was heading."

[Ignotus Everto]

"Definitely a memorable one." said the Nuit with a wry smile. He would have continued quipping about wolves, but that particular train of thought was smashed by a flaming bottle.

"Rivals to me? I don't think that man was even Zeltivan." said Ignotus as he brushed soot off his sleeve. His eyebrows twitched slightly at Fallon's sudden reluctance to be near him and her immediate use of the word "they." It was just one man to his knowledge, and his voice put any questions of gender to rest, so she surely meant "they" in the sense of plural.

The wizard's lips pursed slightly as he followed Fallon outside. "Ignotus." he said somewhat absently as he threw his gaze down both sides of the street, looking for some sign of their saboteur. "Not the best one, I'm afraid. He was dark, dirty, not very tall, definitely foreign. I doubt he has been in Zeltiva long; no citizen would tolerate someone so filthy for long. It's likely he came by ship as well; I doubt anyone dressed that likely would survive long by land, an he didn't strike me as someone with more than one set of clothes."

While they had escaped Ignotus' notice, there were faint imprints of filth in the shape of bare feet trailing from the left side of the street to the office, and another set of tracks going straight forward into an alley. "What would you propose our first course of action be, Miss Skylar?"

[Fallon]

Ignotus was not a name she immediate knew. It did not seem to tickle any immediate thought within her mind at least, and so mentally recording the name in her mind. He was a nuit, and seemed quite capable of holding his own as well as answering her questions when prompted. Easy work, she reasoned as she tried to put a reading on him - mage, wanted revenge, capable of fire control. Obviously could distinguish that the man who came in as distinctly not Zeltivan - which left her with the bitter taste that he was indeed from Sunberth. Meaning it probably was not for him, but instead for her.

Raising an eyebrow, she scanned the street and looked to the shapes. There was a mother dragging her squawking child away, the steps of businessmen as they continued on their way down the street - it was just a normal day to them after all, nothing unusual at all. Taking a step around the doorway she looked to the ground, taking a stoop as she begun the base of her intervention upon the surfaces. Dusty ground, revealing the faint imprint of footfalls upon the earth. She tried to summon up what the man looked like in her mind, slowing down the blur in a collection of freeze frames. Scruffy, untidy, filthy, worn fingers, skin so dirty it had taken on a copper sheen. She blinked.

"No Shoes," she breathed as she took a crouch and inspected the doorway. With a twist of the lips she moved away, minimising her movement as she tried to gain some sense of bearings. Zeltiva was a relatively clean place in her experience, but it did have moments where the edges showed their filth. Imprints were what she spied, the strange ball of the heel and flat of the toes marking out what she saw. Her head craned as she attempted to figure out the direction they had come from - of course she could see the turn of feet as they entered the office, but outwards was confusing.

Looking back behind her she spied the lead in - a quick dart from the alleyway to the front, and then the stumbled steps down the left side. Peering down it she spied the drags within the dirt, the turning of loose cobbles. She released a hum, "First action, follow what can be followed. Maybe notify a guard of the occurrence - it was attempted assault and while controlled it was also arson. I don't know Zeltiva's laws intimately, but I have a feeling that it's something potentially punishable." She nodded her head in the direction she had chosen, "If I catch him, I'll shake, restrain, encourage and allow you some happy question time with them. Sound good? Good."

It was with the firm steps that she took the direction she had chosen, a brisk pace though one far from running. Ears strained, the gaze flickering as she followed the path onwards - she had her target, now was just the fun of hunting them down.