Easy Mark

Madeira is targeted by a thief who doesn't know what he's in for

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Easy Mark

Postby Jomi on June 24th, 2019, 9:52 pm

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"Jomi."

The ghost grunted in leu of a proper response. His concentrations were preoccupied with the shiny brass knob, now slick with soulmist, and the force needed to turn it. The activated soulmist danced around the rounded edges as he struggled to apply an even pressure on both sides while simultaneously turning the contraption from hell.

Suddenly very aware of his newfound audience, the ghosts efforts became more frantic. As a last ditched shot in the dark the ghost called on the energy of his soul core to activate the spent soulmist that covered the knob.

The activated mists contracted suddenly and the heavy brass turned with ease and popped open, much to the ghost surprise. Madeira breezed through the opening, oblivious to her servants struggles as Jomi bundled himself in behind her and filed that move away for later.

The twittering woman behind the counter offered to buy back the dress and was backhanded for her efforts. Madeira eyed her cooly as she lead the ghost to the back of the shop. A rattle of the knob confirmed her suspicions before she stepped back and gave her orders.

"There'll be a greasy little man on the other side. See if he'd be kind enough to open the door for us."

Jomi wasted no time, vanishing with a puff of disturbed air and reappearing behind the locked door, and was met by a meticulously organized room. It looked to be a storage room, rows of hanging clothes and wooden crates carefully lined with thick straw padding were pushed against the walls. Each one filled wth wrapped parcels and assorted cloth bags. A long table dominated the centre of the room stacked high with linen sacks and knick knacks organized by shape and size.

And bent over the long, dark wood table was a greasy little man. His thin blonde whips of hair danced around the emerging bald spot on the top of his head as he furiously scribbled into a leather bound book. Spread out in from of him was Madeira's rings, each one lined neatly with the jewel facing the mans pallor face.

The ghosts mists contracted together, each tendril woven tight against each other to in order to build up his body. The ghosts palm shone a deep red as colour and light flooded his soulmist, creating a unsettlingly [I]real[/r] approximation of a human as he sidled up to the man behind the table. He was so consumed with his works that even the electric chill that preceded the ghosts presence was lost on him.

"Those don't belong to you."

The man gave an indignant squeak of fright and jumped from his seat, his quill dropped and abandoned on the open book. Jomi noted the suspicious absence of an inkwell, and even through he had witnessed the fluffy white quill dancing across the page the feather had no visible ink. The words and numbers were still wet and glistening although they had no significance to the illiterate ghost.

The little man recovered from his fright, his face twisting to recognition and then panic as Jomi's face came into focus. "How the petch did you get in here!" The man stumbled backwards, his hand slipped to his back and grasped at the handle of the blade still tucked into his belt before he paused. His eyes became brighter, flicking from the ghosts eyes to his glowing red palm quizzically and back again. The mans face began to sink defeatedly as the Aurist began to piece together what bothered him about the strangers aura.

"You're a ghost."

Jomi was taken aback by the mater of fact statement. His materialization was flawless, no one had questioned Jomi's undead status since Dira herself had given him the bloodstone. The ghost halted his approach as the man began to stammer out his words rapidly.

"Lets make a deal, yes? That artifact you're carrying" The man pointed to his own palm with the tip of his switchblade. "I can find you another one. In fact you can have any of the artifacts here! Work with me and I can grant any wish you have, surely a ghost would need some assistance."

The man inched closer, his eyes shone with greed as a wolfish smile stretched across his lips. "Avenging your death? Locating a loved one? Anything you need I can find you the tools to achieve it, all I asked is that you work for me. A skilled ghost like you would be a valuable asset to our organization. I'll bet you could get into all sorts of places."

Jomi froze in place, his mind spun as he struggled to absorb the dump of information.

This was a artifact dealer, an underground smuggler of magical goods. And he was offering him anything he wanted in exchange for his services. If he worked for this little man he'd become stronger, fortified by a bevy of artifacts. Madeira's hold on him would be that much weaker, and Edith would be that much safer in his care. He just had to work for him.

The ticks marched on and the ghost eyed the simple wooden door behind them. Envisioning the irate master spiritist that waited impatiently behind it. He considered the offer with uncharacteristic patience, if he could placate her by returning her stolen things he might be able to return later without suspicion. And the ghost could weave another ally into his web of deception...

"...Nah, I have enough Master's to deal with already."

Soundlessly, the ghost shot himself forward, blinking into the man as he threw up his arm defensively. The ghost rushed to push his soul aside and seep his essence into the mans muscles and tendons. He curled his mists around his bones and filled the space behind his eyes. He puppeted the body with a growing familiarity, pulling at his hosts astral body and marching him swiftly towards the door.

The mechanisms were easier when piloting a human body. After fiddling with the keys Jomi threw the door open with ease, stepping aside to allow Madeira to enter.
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Postby Madeira Craven on June 26th, 2019, 1:02 am

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Madeira waited as the ghost blinked through the door, anticipating the click of the lock and the turning of the handle. The old woman at the front of the shop was wavering right where Madeira left her, hand still clutched to her cheek, staring at the spot the ghost was just moments before. She had a wan look about her. Madeira wondered if she was about to faint. But to her credit the woman wobbled over to her counter and from underneath surfaced with a short club of the type a tavernkeeper might have. The solid, weighted type used to knock aggressive drunks back to their senses by rearranging their brain mater.

"G-get out of my shop!"

Madeira eyed the weapon warily. Jomi was taking his sweet time overpowering the weasly man, and without him she vulnerable. She didn't doubt she could wrestle the club away from the woman, but not without some pain, serious bruising, or worse, a broken bone. She wasn't prepared to get into a bitch fight with this old lady.

"Sit down before you hurt yourself", her voice had lost the aggression it held before. Under its monotone delivery and the relaxed way her eye wandered she strived to act completely indifferent. "I'm here to get back what's mine."

Still the woman shuffled closer, totally ignoring the bravado of the unarmed woman she was closing in on. Holding the club in front of her like a talismam, her knuckles were white and her frail body shook from head to foot. Damnit, where was Jomi? Marshalling herself, Madeira turned her consciousness inward and tapped at the dijed in her core. She drew it out like she was spinning wool, turning the formless haze of power into something usable, giving it direction. She wove it through her voice, knitting the words sitting unborn in her chest together with an emotional surge. Hypnotism was all but useless as a weapon, but maybe she could paralyze this attacker by layering her already strong emotion with even more.

"I said sit down", she barked, her voice spiked with hypnotism and filling every edge of the store with her black mood. Fear, the surge brutalized the already spooked woman. "If you are still in my sight when this door opens I will kill you. Do you understand?" By the end she was shouting, the hypnotism leaving her body in a frenzy that left her dizzy.

The club hit the ground with a disturbingly loud thunk, and the old woman followed with a strangled little gasping noise.

Madeira had just enough time to wonder if she gave that poor woman a heart attack when the door finally opened. It was Jomi, wearing the weasly man, who stepped aside politely for her to enter.

"Finally", she huffed, stepping past him into the back room. The air smelt of straw packing and burning wicks, the area brightly lit and strangely clean. She took it in for a moment, her observant eye passing over the packing crates and racks of baubles and the neat row of her very own possessions. They were lined in front of a blotted notebook, with a jewellers magnifying glass waiting neatly on the lefthand side. He was taking an inventory, it seemed. Madeira read the first few lines of neat script:

-Ring (silver, onyx) 20kt. Hinged. Not magical in itself, but contains of a strange residue that is magical in origin. Little value.
-Key. Metal unknown. Hints of divine influence (Aquiras?). Purpose unknown. Requires further study. High value.
-Gloves. Spider silk. Evidence of hypnotic influence. Fabled gloves of the Spider Maiden? Requires further research. High value.

With gritted teeth the spiritist ripped out the page, crumpling it in her thickly scared fist. Petching aurists.

She poked around the room, opening boxes and rifling through papers. The this operation staggered her, through she was calling on all her acting ability not to show it. It was small but so brutally efficient. There was no way this was not part of some bigger whole. Was this like the slave trade of Riverfall they so nearly found the evidence for? Was this what the Lhavitian underground looked like? She picked up an apple sized orb of polished amber, turning it over in the light of the wall sconces as she thought. She had to get more answers from this man.

"You can let him go, Jomi." she turned back to the pair, tossing the priceless artifact from hand to hand like a toy. Her smile was one Jomi would recognize from their fight with the Priest; a sharp toothed, sweet-eyed bluff. "If he moves, kill him."

"What all this you have? Some kind of warehouse? Are you a fencer?" she asked mildly, poking around the room. She flexed her black left hand, redirecting her dijed to her eyes, and the room around her bloomed with colours she could barely understand. The entire room was packed with magical artifacts. "Oh, a very specific kind of fencer, huh? Must have a very specific kind of clients too, then. A very rich kind of client. Hmm, a guy like you must have records somewhere..."
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Easy Mark

Postby Jomi on June 27th, 2019, 4:36 am

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Jomi set to work smothering his hosts soul with his own as Madeira spoke. He used the little man's fear and trauma as leverage in order to twist himself deeper into his bones. The threads of his astral body thrummed with tension as the ghost flexed his dead dijed through the living fibres.

"You can let him go, Jomi. If he moves, kill him."

The ghost expelled his soulmist, pushing through his skin like flour through a sifter before gathering it behind the man's back. His master didn't seem overly eager to leave, so Jomi took his sweet time detangling himself from his host astral body. The gathered mists were then carefully reconstructed. Starting from his head he pulled the flickering soulmist in close and sculpted it into his preferred shape. His dark eyes were screwed shut as he took meticulous care to remember every detail of his living body from the shape of his ears to the scars on his hands. He found it was getting harder and harder to remember those small, insignificant details as time wore on. Those little details that were uniquely his were slowly being washed away as the world trudged on without him.

The gem in his hand flashed a bright red as the soulmist constricted and settled. Just in time for the man to give a great heaving gasp as his legs gave out. He tumbled to his knees and grasped at his neck with both hands, wheezing wetly between deep desperate gulps of air. Jomi could see the sheen of cold sweat that covered the goose flesh on the back of his neck. The muscles seizing and shivering as his astral body struggled through the trauma of what must have been his very first possession.

"Oh right, I forgot to breath." Jomi's eyes wandered over the stacks of boxes that filled the stuffy little room. His searching eyes delighted over the many shiny baubles. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"What's all this you have? Some kind of warehouse? Are you a fencer?" The spiritist spoke rapidly, her eyes took on that same bright eyed look as she fluttered about the room. Her hands toying carelessly with a shiny amber orb as the wheezing man staggered to his feet with urgency. His hands outstretched as if to catch the orb and eyes shone with panic. "Oh, a very specific kind of fencer, huh? Must have a very specific kind of client too, then. A very rich kind of client. Hmm, a guy like you must have records somewhere..."

"No thats not, I don't-..." The man stuttered senselessly, already backed into a corner he was too frightened to leave. Madeira rummaged through the papers strewn about the desk leaving the man and ghost with a few ticks of silence.

"Hey, ghost! its not too late." A raspy wheeze still rumbled through his strained voice as the man pivoted his head and spoke discreetly into his shoulder. "If you suffocate this witch I'll reward you handsomely. Anything you want, just please! Get me out of this."

Jomi rummaged his soulmist distractedly through one of the open crates. He wasn't interested in fencers, secret organizations or talking. that was Madeira's shtick, he was just the support. Drawing the strength from his core the ghost activated the soulmist in his right hand. Using the tip of his thumb and forefinger Jomi delicately pinched the neck of a small black and white taxidermy monkey that had been tucked in a velvet drawstring bag. The soulmist pushed against the energy that was activated in each finger allowing the ghost to draw the small bushy creature up to his face as he spoke.

"It's a little late for that, my guy." Jomi spoke evenly. The careless projection in his voice making the man quake as he eyed the spiritist that still lingered over the far end of the table. "If you want to make a deal you'd better talk to the witch over there. I'm just a trained dog that does as he's told."

As long as it suits me. The ghost added silently. A dangerous smirk crawled across his face. He wasn't a helpless dog, not anymore, but Madeira didn't need to know that quite yet.

"Is this an artifact? What do you do?" The ghost asked the monkey he balanced in the palm of his hand. His malicious smile dissolved into one of genuine amusement as he adjusted the pair of tiny wire specks that perched on the end of its small black noes.

"I'm the Librarian Monkey."

The sound Jomi made wasn't human. The rattled ghost's materialization and projection both broke along with his concentration as the monkey shimmered radiantly and began to speak. The taxidermy animal fell, unceremoniously, back into the crate as the ghost devolved into a formless mass.

"I can answer any question you have up to three times per season." The monkey continued, hoping up onto the lip of the crate to look down at the ghost that languished as a puddle on the floor. The animals movements were smooth and unbothered as it adjusted its glasses and continued in a cool, even tone. "You have two questions left. Let me know if I can be of any further assistance."

"...Alright." Jomi's embarrassed voice drifted out of the formless blob. How pathetic that a seasoned Alvad could be so caught off guard by something so pedestrian as dead, talking animals skins.

The ghost sniffed mightily as he prepared to redeem himself. Madeira had asked a question, right? What did she want to know again?

"Where does this guy keep his client records?"

"Ah yes, follow me."

The monkey leapt gracefully off the scrubbed wood and walked on all fours with singleminded purpose underneath the long table, coming to a stop above a particularly scuffed floorboard. Jomi watched as the blonde haired man's quaking turned to a full body vibration as he contemplated risking death by ghost by punting the animal across the room. As the monkey neared his feet the man lunged under the table, his eyes wild and panicked as he grasped for the furry body. His speed enhanced by the desperate need of a man with too many secrets to protect.

Wordlessly the enraged ghost shot upwards, blinking off the stained floor and into the crazed man. The ghost pushed against his soul with a punishing force. Fighting his way inside and filling his deepest parts with his own essence. He used the man's possession fatigue as leverage to overtake his motor functions and twist his body cruelly. He howled in pain, sprawled out on the floor as the monkey looked on. Seemingly oblivious to the human suffering that was happening mer inches from its face as it shouted in order to be heard above the screaming.

"Beneath this floorboard in a hidden compartment is seven by fourteen inch book bound in tan leather! Inside is a list of Edward's clients and benefactors! Can I be of any further assistance, sir?!"
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Postby Madeira Craven on July 7th, 2019, 9:17 pm

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Madeira watched the arc of the amber orb as she tossed it from hand to hand. It was a uniquely beautiful item. Almost hypnotic in its polished clarity. She wondered what it was for.

There was a tag on it, applied with a dot of paste and inscribed with ink. On it was a strange label: B1-P6-4.

Cryptography was beyond her capabilities, but this didn't seem like a code. It looked more like a filing system, like a library book... She was still considering this when Jomi activated his own magic item, and made an undignified little squeak of fright. She glanced up, and sure enough, a certainly completely dead taxidermy monkey had leapt to its feet and offered the ghost three questions. Jomi, like the good servant he was, posed her own question to the little thing. And Madeira figured she must have been on the right track, for at that moment the weasly man leapt into panicked action.

Madeira turned away from the ensuing scuffle, stepping neatly aside as the mans possessed body thrashed about. Kneeling in front of the monkey, she smiled charmingly. "Thank you, Librarian Monkey." The thing didn't respond, but indeed seemed to look right through her. No matter, it had already told her where this guy kept his records.

Holding the amber orb in one hand, she dug the fleshy tips of her nailless fingers into the crack of the board and levered it up. Indeed, right where the monkey said it would be, was a thin leather journal. But that was not all. There was another two booklets like the one on the desk, and a letter in an unsealed envelop of thick and expensive paper. Pulling everything out at once, she sat cross legged on the floor ready to try and figure all this out.

What the monkey had described as the client book was well worn and thumbed through. It had only four pages of names, but room for much, much more. Unfortunatly....

"Little Duck, in possession. B1-P2-8
Hammer, in possession. B2-P30-9
Salty Lass, acquired. B1-P1-2 x B1-P1-3"

Gods damn it. It was all in code! This guy was being very, very careful. She flipped through a few more pages, and found a ledger that was moving a couple hundred miza's around. It was citing expenses such as "food and drink" and "shop", with an occasional influx of gold simply marked as "sale", with that same mysterious serial number system. Well, maybe that number wasn't as mysterious as it looked.

Putting the book aside, she flipped through a second. Along the spine the book was marked with a one in black ink. Aha! Here we go. Madeira cleared her throat and read aloud:

"Riot Ring: 24kt gold/human tooth. Malediction. Made of the tooth of an unknown charismatic rebel leader from the Day of Discord. Can be used to immediately disperse a mob no matter what their number or attitude is. Conversely, this ring can be used to immediately attract a mob which in no way shape or form is able to be controlled by the user. It can be only used once per season for disperse and once per season to attract. Maker unknown. Value=500gm. Restricted sale."

Book one, page one, item one. That was the filing system, and the reason for the tags. If nothing else this guy kept some very organized records.

"So, you're stealing things and redistributing them? Restricted sale... This must be too dangerous to be given to a nutjob, so you're going to sell it to someone in you trust, right? And this ledger..." This ledger looked like something you might find in a guild or a club. Was this guy the numbers man of a kind of magic item fencing ring? No, that's absurd. Why go for the unpredictable danger of magic items when this city was swimming in more conventional riches? She touched the collar at her throat, turning the scene of her robbery around in her head. He was a magic user himself, she knew. But not a Tower member, or else she would have recognized him. He went for her magic items and ignored the silk and jewels... he wasn't looking to get rich.

With sinking suspicion she looked to the envelope. From inside she pulled a folded sheet of creamy white paper, and laying it flat across her lap her eyes immediately shot wide.

"It's a manifesto!"

Her eyes scanned the words, darting back and forth with her brow creasing deeper and deeper as she read each line aloud for the sake of the illiterate ghost. It had an aggressively anti magic sentiment buried beneath criticism of the Lhavitian pecking order and the classism of the Towers. Magic was blamed for the subjugation of the lower class, as the massive difference in power between the echelons just furthered the rift between them. Damningly, praise was given to the Day of Discord, though it was prefaced with a regret for the loss of life that day.

With the manifesto the whole operation began to make sense. Magic items are one of the only ways a non-mage can wield magic. He wasn't trying to get rich, this was this organizations way of narrowing the gap!

She flipped back to the client list in the first book. Scanning all three pages she saw it was only twelve names, with only four of them names repeated and making up the vast majority of the "possession and acquired" list. Did that mean this group had only four core members, but were selling to others? Perhaps trying to bring them into the fold? The ledger only went back to the first of the season, so this group wasn't very old. Perhaps they were just a handful of disgruntled people.

Disgruntled people armed with a plethora of magic items, though. She glanced around the room with growing unease and even faster growing greed.

"Jomi, my flask is in the pocket of the yellow dress", she offered the probably tired ghost more soulmist discreetly, then tapped the papers together in a neat pile and got to her feet. Mastering her face she offered the weasly man a contrite smile. Turning on the act from wrath of god to cowed aggressor was a jarring one, but she did her best, her posture softening and her voice curling at the edges of her words to sound younger and less threatening.

"I'm sorry about the rough treatment. But in our defense you did rob us a knifepoint, so you were kind of asking for it. Can we just sit for a second and talk? I might actually be able to help you."

She pulled out the desk chair and sat, certain he would do the same. He wouldn't let her leave, knowing what she knows. He'd have no choice but to follow her lead and see what she wanted.
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Easy Mark

Postby Jomi on July 8th, 2019, 7:53 pm

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The souls collided inside the human man while Madeira busied herself with the paperwork. Stepping neatly aside while Jomi fought tooth and nail for dominance over the blonde haired man. The ghost wound his soulmist into his bones, taking his time to cover the entirety of his body and learn of its more delicate pieces. The tendons in the mans feet, hands and neck jumped and bunched as the ghost contracted the muscles harshly.

"So, you're stealing things and redistributing them? Restricted sale... This must be too dangerous to be given to a nutjob, so you're going to sell it to someone in you trust, right? And this ledger..."

Madeira was taking her sweet time combing through the papers. Jomi looked up with his borrowed eyes and could see the gears in her head turn. The rather simple minded Kelvic would be having a hard enough time following along even without being distracted by the warring souls fighting within the scrawny body. The ghost was the more experienced possessor but the brute, unrefined strength of the mans living soul was quickly draining the overworked ghost.

"It's a manifesto!"

As the letter was read the desperate fighting spirit left the scrawny man, desperation turned to a defeated acceptance and was washed away as the hosts body began to relax. Fresh tears streamed down his face and Jomi took the moment of silence as the blessing it was and retreated within to gather his strength. He settled deep in his host, his soulmist loosened its hold and relaxed as he began absently mapping the dijed that carved paths between his hosts individual cells.

The man moved his body experimentally, and finding no supernatural resistance, climbed gingerly to his feet. The spiritist continued with the performance. The thick paper held close to her chest as she listed its contents with rapt attention.

The mans shifty eyes flicked between her face and a crate beside the door to his left. She knew too much, he couldn't let her leave. The ghost watched warily from within as the mans body began to vibrate.

Please, don't do it... The ghost pleaded uselessly, his host lacked the skill required to communicate with its new inhabitant. But Jomi couldn't help whining into the void. Please. This is going to hurt us both, just talk to the bitch already.

The vibrating reached a crescendo as Madeira reached the end of the manifesto. The man exploded into action a second time. He launched himself at the crate, snatching a fine silvery veil off the top and turning sharply to throw it towards the locked door.

The ghost struggled to match his speed. Jomi expanded himself and concentrated on reworking himself into the bones and muscle tissues of the blonde haired mans leg. Once Jomi gained control of the single limb he set to work following the flow of dijed that naturally wound its way through the cells and atom that made the body. Pulling on that power the ghost drew up his own soul core to activate the living dijed. The muscles flooded with power as the man took the first step towards the door. The sudden burst of energy carried along by his already established momentum was all it took to send him sailing past the door and across the small room.

Both host and ghost wailed in agony as they landed in a crumpled heap. Jomi's soulmist tore itself ragged and leaked out of him in a steady stream as he fought his way out of the body.

"Jomi, my flask is in the pocket of the yellow dress"

The ghost rolled his way painfully across the floor to the life giving elixir as the man fought himself into a sitting position and massaged the torn muscles in his leg.

"I'm sorry about the rough treatment. But in our defense you did rob us a knifepoint, so you were kind of asking for it. Can we just sit for a second and talk? I might actually be able to help you."

The man didn't speak right away, instead his eyes were fixed longingly on the shimmering fabric abandoned carelessly on the floor. And when he did speak his words were thick with emotion.

"I petching doubt that."
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Postby Jomi on August 28th, 2019, 5:56 pm

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“Thats petching unlikely”

“For gods sake just humour her!” Jomi roared. The ghosts soulmist still stung from the last possession and although the the flask of Madeira’s soulmist helped, he was still in pain and completely done with this bullshyke.

Jomi fumed as he pulled his soulmist together. As the initial stabbing pain passed into a subtle ache Jomi focused his mists and pulled them towards his core, sculpting them into his preferred shape on a young, dark haired man wearing travellers clothes. His typically flawless, artifact aided, materialization trembled around the edges with disrupted dijed. The newly formed body crouched down and wrapped his spectral fists around the Librarian monkey, now back to its inert, taxidermy state. The ghost set his focus on his palms, drawing the lingering energy from his mists and focused them on his palm to create enough force to push up against the pull of gravity and carry the curious creature back to the table. Leaving the humans to work it out alone.

The ledger was still open, the remnants of page that Madeira had torn out fluttered with the ghosts movements. Dark lines of ink made sharp, defined shapes across the parchment. But Jomi was no closer to assigning them meaning. Spread out before the book were a collection of rings. Each tagged with string and parchment covered in more of those weird shapes. He recognized Madeira’s rings, the ones that held his and Emma’s soulmist, as well as several others all of different materializes and styles. They were all artifacts stolen by whoever had written the manifesto, or so Jomi gathered from Madeira’s talking, but being illiterate meant that the ghost couldn’t distinguish what they were from the notes.

But he had his monkey, and the stuffed primate said he had one question left. But which one should he choose?

The ghosts materialized hand drifted over the jewellery. Large gaudy jewels and smaller ornate pieces and suspicious carved bones were studied and then discarded. Jomi wasn’t sure what it was that he was looking for, but he liked taking his time to look like he knew what he was doing.

Finally the ghosts hand came to rest on a simple silver band inlayed with strange symbols, but not the kind like in books. It was heavier than it looked, its silver tarnished and dull, but something about it was drawing the ghost in.

“Monkey, what does this ring do?”

The monkey shimmered again, its body transitioning back to life like movement and immediately began its lecture in a measured, formal tone.

“This is Tanora’s ring, it allows a user once per season to turn back time five chimes. The user need only whisper Tanroa’s name and then take a step back. As they step backwards with Tanroa’s name on their lips, time will simply rewind back five chimes in that instant.”

What.

The silver band cradled in his hand seemed heavier now. The implications of such a device were staggering, there was no way that the weasely man would have left it out in the open if he knew what it was.

Jomi stood up from the table and straightened his spine. His soulmist hooked around the cotton tag string and popped it off the ring clutched in his fist as he mimed a deep breath out of habit and took a step back.

“Tanora.”

--------

“-maybe we could help each other?”

“I petching doubt it.”

“Wha- Holy shyke, WHAT?”

Jomi’s face crumpled as he doubled over in pain. Shock, fear and awe flashed across his face in rapid succession as he scanned his surroundings. Everything was the same. The veil laid by the door and the rug was still kicked up from their scuffle. The man was still laid prone, propped up by his elbows as Madeira loomed over him with that oily smile. Even the tearing pain from the Flux was back in full force.

It worked, it actually worked!

Jomi opened his clenched fist to find it empty, even the ring had returned to its spot on the table. The ghost rushed to the table to claim it again. The tarnished silver gleamed in the low light, right where it had been before, still looped in its tag. Jomi snatched at it carelessly, scattering the rings that had shared the same small space.

Madeira’s rings bounced along the floor with a clatter and Jomi moved to retrieve them out of instinct when a curious grove in the wood gave him pause. The black onyx ring filled with his soulmist called softly to the ghost from the floorboard it had wedged itself in. The rug that covered it had been furrowed in the edges, uncovering a section of wood that was spaced wider than the rest.

Jomi lifted the dirty rug and threw it over itself, exposing what looked like a basement door.

“Madeira, theres something here!” The ghost called back to the spiritist tucking the Tanora ring discreetly in the space between a crate and the wall before fading through the wooden floor.

The basement was dark and stuffy. The unfinished, unventilated stone walls were supported by wooden beams and lite by a single glass lantern perched on a table placed prominently in the centre of the room. A black board was pushed up against one side, covered in chalk writings that the ghost couldn’t decipher surrounded on each side by more crates. But the table at the centre drew his attention.

A rough outline of the city from a birds eye view was drawn clumsily directly onto the smooth wood. Jomi could recognize the layout of Zintia and Sartu. He could make out the shapes that represented the Den of the Lost, and Infinities grounds, and they both had circles drawn onto them in chalk. There were several of the circled locations he didn’t recognize, and one circle that was crossed out.

Jomi circled back from the table, hooking his soulmist around the deadbolt and sliding it back, allowing Madeira a chance to enter.
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Jomi
One more day would have been nice
 
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Easy Mark

Postby Madeira Craven on September 7th, 2019, 2:50 am

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"That's petching unlikely", the man gasped through the pain of his rough mishandling from the ghost. The pearls of sweat that dotted his receeding hairline and the tremble in his hands worked directly against the bravado of his words. He was scared. Very scared. He bit off way more than he could chew with her, and the regret was clear in his muddy eyes.

Ignoring the strange explosive pronouncement of confusion from the ghost, Madeira smiled for their captive. Jomi was a master of the more brutal work that actually got them in here and subdued the frightened man, but now it was her turn to do what she did best. She rubbed her hands together excitedly.

"Yes, it's very unlikely. I'm a filthy Tower mage, I was born rich and perpetrate the elitist system you hate. We would make fabulous enemies, and we will, if that's what you want." She held out one empty open palm, as if weighing the idea in her hand. "But what if we were to work together to get something we both want? I will happily keep your dirty little secret. I'll even get in the way if people start sniffing around. What's more, I don't just own some amazing magic items, I make them. Why steal these things when I can give them away?"

She held out her other hand, a grizzly, waxy thing that made the man lick his lips uncomfortably. Holding both hands out like a scale she weighed them against each other.

"So on one hand, if we don't come to some satisfactory conclusion, I can actively work against you. And believe me when I say I, as a wealthy, powerful mage with spirits that will do whatever I say, I have some brutally creative ways to work against you. On the other hand, if we come to a mutually beneficial agreement, you can have someone with their foot in the upper crust, backed by the Towers and able to generate new magic items, and have them firmly on your side. It's just that easy."

She tipped towards her right side, as if the weight of the good points were too heavy, and pretended to topple over, with appropriately goofy sound effects. She was adding it all up for him, laying out with the same certainly with which you teach a child that one plus one is two. An unshakable fact. Even the lightheartedness was carefully cultivated. The silliness after all the fire he'd seen out of her and her pet creature just moments ago was off putting and vaguely threatening; like she was a bomb that could detonate at any moment.

Jomi was making a racket behind them. A musical tinkle scattered a handful of rings and small jewelry across the floor; most of which were hers, she noted sourly. But she didn't look away for long. Her eyes snapped back to the weasly man, giving him no room to hide or think. With a pull of will she pushed her dijed through the contact. The air between them seemed to hum as a sweet, small suggestion of trust tapped at his mind and she pressed it into the space between his thoughts. Such simple concepts were easy now, it was now the delivery that was the hardest to get right. She smiled sweetly as she tried to gum up with frantically whirling mind.

"Stop it!", he yelped suddenly, startling her out of her concentration. Covering his eyes with the heels of his hands he scrubbed desperately, like he could squeeze the magic out.

Madeira shrugged her shoulders, chuckling, while inside her mood suddenly moved with a much blacker current. Petching aurists. "Sorry, I had to try." Hypnotism as a means of control was out of the question with him, she noted. Damn it.

“Madeira, there's something here!”

The spiritist saw the ghost tucking a ring away before dropping through the floor. It seemed Jomi had been busy while she was focused on the weasly man. An ugly faded carpet had been pushed back to reveal a trap door below it.

Madeira climbed to her feet, brushing dust off the knee of her skirt with disgusted little flicks. All the fight seemed to have left the weasly man with Jomi's announcement of the secret door. He was slumped where he sat, contemplating his knees and looking to be close to tears. "They're going to kill me", he whimpered.

"What, Hammer and Little Lass and whoever else is on that ledger?" she asked as from the inside of the secret door she heard a locking mechanism click open.

"I'm a traitor", be blubbed.

"Only if you tell them", she reassured as she collected her stolen treasures off the floor, slipping on her gloves and her rings and necklace. Finally, she plucked that little ring Jomi was so interested in out from behind a crate and slipped that on an well. She didn't understand why he wouldn't just ask for his corporeal master to carry something for him if he wanted it. "Come on, give us the grand tour. The ghost won't be nice about it if you make me ask him."

At her insistence the man got woodenly to his feet and opened the door for her. A short set of stairs dropped into a dingy little root cellar with bare stone walls and a single lamp on a long table. While the room upstairs looked to be some kind of storage or even transport room, this looked like a war room. But a war room dreamed up by an angry teen, not a grown man. She stared around, dumbfounded, as the weasly man sat on the bottom step with his head in his hands.

The board was a jumble of out of context plans or notes crowded by rough drafts of slogans and what might have been flag design concepts. Another copy of the manifesto was nailed to the wall between the mortar, its cover signed with half a dozen illegible signatures. A map of Lhavit was pinned to the table with the tip of a knife, it's surface scribbled with red charcoal.

This wasn't some global spanning scheme. This was some Scooby-gang clubhouse for angry men who just happened to be moving hundreds if not thousands of kina worth of potentially dangerous stolen goods. It was mind boggling. Perhaps the paranoia they are creating isn't a conscious effort by them, it's just a side effect of stealing and selling magic goods to scared people. They're dressing a fencing ring to look like a revolution because revolutionary sounds more fulfilling than thief.
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
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Easy Mark

Postby Madeira Craven on September 13th, 2019, 2:07 am

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As Madeira poked around the room, reading the map, the board, and finally the manifesto, she found something peculiar. The manifesto was signed, but underneath the title the author had printed their name in neat black script.

"William Florence", she read aloud. On the stairs the weasly man flinched.

"If- If I were to work with you", he spoke up finally, sounding somehow deflated as he watched her and Jomi, "what do you want?"

"Aha! That's the right question." She whirled on him, her drab skirt kicking up the dust. Her smile was sharp and eager, wild with possibilities. "I want first pick."

"You what?"

"I want first pick. Whatever items you're moving through here, I want to see it first."

He chewed on this thought for a chime, searching for the trap. 'You want to be a buyer?"

"I want to be your friend, and friends get each other gifts."

"You want me to give you magic items?!"

"No, I want you to gift them to me." She reiterated. Approaching his spot on the stairs she leaned in close, looming over him. "I think you're misvaluing my services to your little cause. I'm going to keep people off your back and take these hot, stolen petching goods off your hands and give you my own lawful goods to replace them. Is a little thank-you gift too much to ask for all that?"

Out of the two of them, Jomi was the scary one. For him it came naturally; being ferocious and nearly indestructible had that advantage. For Madeira, being young, skinny, and brightly coloured, it took a bit more effort. But she could manage. Queens by themselves are not scary, after all. It's the army behind them that was scary. As long as she had Jomi on a leash she would be just fine.

She watched with satisfaction of weasly man (or William, she told herself) seemed to fold in on himself. Even without any verbal form of acceptance she knew she and Jomi had won.

"There we go. Let's shake on it, okay? You can go ahead and strike Infinity Manor off your game plan. I mean that truly for your sake; my house hates burglars."

Taking his sweaty hand in hers she gave a quick few pumps, solidifying their deal, and let herself back upstairs. She had collected everything that was stolen, but it felt like such a waste to leave it at that. She regarded the boxes around her, and made a decision.

She picked the ledger book from where she had left it open on the desk. Running her gloved finger down the index she found what she was looking for, the Riot Ring. It was an intriguing item, and a powerful bit of malediction. It would be a shame not to take it home with her. And there was something right below it, listed to be in the same crate. Seduction Glasses. That could come in useful too, if she were to pursue Chiona. Whistling between her teeth she picked through the inventory for the box listed on the ledger. Under the cotton batting she found her items, and slipped them onto her face and hands. They felt comfortable there. She smiled into her hand, giddy with excitement over this find.

"Jomi!" she called down to the cellar, were both men had yet to surface. "Come pick out your gifts. We've imposed on mister Florence enough for the day, we should get going."
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
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Easy Mark

Postby Jomi on September 17th, 2019, 10:33 pm

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"Come pick out your gifts. We've imposed on mister Florence enough for the day, we should get going."

Jomi watched Madeira intently, half phased through the floor. His dark eyes following the ring she had plucked from his hiding place and placed on her finger. She didn't know how it worked yet, but it was only a matter of time. He'd have to pilfer it once the spiritist was asleep. It was far too powerful to leave in the hands of someone so ruthlessly ambitious.

William didn't rise up from the cellar to see his tormentors off. Preferring instead to stay slouched on the staircase. Leaving Madeira and Jomi to root through his treasures themselves.

The spiritist flipped through the record book, selecting her prizes with a critical eye. Meanwhile Jomi, still as illiterate as ever, had no choice but to let his soulmist be guided by luck.

The ghost passed over the jewels and goblets. All the fancy and exquisite luxuries failed to peak the ghosts interest. He instead lifted the taxidermy monkey from its place on the floor. Followed by a stone Okomo figure and a cloth bag. As the pair was leaving the ghost snatched a pair of long sticks made of dark knotted wood.

Satisfied with his haul of random junk, the ghost drifted off to follow his mistress from the shop. As much as he wanted to blink ahead and stow away his gifts, he knew his mistress would be a helpless to find her way home without his guidance. But that dependence suited the ghost just fine for now.
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Jomi
One more day would have been nice
 
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Easy Mark

Postby Madeira Craven on September 18th, 2019, 7:37 pm

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Grades Awarded!

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request!


Madeira Craven

Skills
  • Seduction: 1xp
  • Politics: 3xp
  • Negotiation: 5xp
  • Investigation: 5xp
  • Auristics: 3xp
  • Subterfuge: 3xp
  • Hypnotism: 4xp
  • Mathematics: 1xp
  • Leadership: 1xp
  • Tracking: 1xp
  • Intimidation: 4xp
  • Cryptography: 2xp
  • Interrogation: 4xp

Lores
  • Acting: turning up the drama
  • Inecino Kimur: not concerned with politics
  • Politics: classism
  • Politics: the damage of public opinion
  • Negotiation: dealing with pushy salespeople
  • Investigation: the application of auristics
  • Subterfuge: deceiving a shopkeep
  • Lore of negotiating with tantruming children
  • Negotiation: underselling
  • Leadership: cool in a crisis
  • Investigation: a list of suspects
  • Tracking: following Eyion senses
  • Intimidation: channelling fury
  • Investigation: co conspirator
  • Hypnotism: not a weapon
  • Lore of the New Dawn
  • Investigation: secret smuggling ring
  • Politics: significance of a rebel manifesto
  • Item: Riot Ring
  • Item: spy orb
  • People: William Florence
  • Iten: Seduction glasses

Awards & Retribution
+Riot Ring
+Party Dress
+Serpents Lenses

Notes
Notes here.


Gemma Parker

Grade withheld. Please update your ledger and contact me for your grade!


Jomi

Skills
  • Materialization: 3xp
  • Soulmist Projection: 4xp
  • Possession: 3xp
  • Interrogation: 2xp
  • Observation: 2xp
  • Flux: 1xp

Lores
  • Tracking: easier when one can walk through walls
  • Gemma: scared of Jomi
  • Soulmist projection: the frustration of doorhandles
  • Investigation: secret storage space
  • Negotiation: tempting offer
  • Servitude: one master is enough
  • Possession: remember to breath
  • Lore of the New Dawn
  • Investigation: secret smuggling ring
  • Item: librarian monkey
  • Item: Tanora’s ring
  • People: William Florence

Awards & Retribution
+Stone Okomo
+Restorer Wand
+Bar in a Bag
+Librarian Monkey
+Tenora's Ring
+Rod of Sentience

Notes
You should have had 5xp across the board but it looks like you're almost max everything! Good job :D
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1601
Words: 1402855
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
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Medals: 10
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (2)
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) Lhavit Seasonal Challenge (1)
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