From Drinking to Murder (Shai, Victor, Seven)

[Mirage]

46th of Winter, 511 AV The world was still, the evening having come and gone and leaving in its wake a semi twilight that was at once a creation of Alvadas and the dreams of its citizens. Stars show brightly in partially cloudy skies, and the Illusions of the city had become more or less subdued. From time to time a glittering flower would blossom from between the cracks in the pavement, and the buildings almost seemed to yawn with weariness built up from an entire days worth of shifting. It was a quite, peaceful time for this city of chaos and randomness, but even so there were a few still stirring even at this late hour. The sound of running footsteps could be heard echoing down empty streets and forgotten passageways, bringing forth a life of its own as it added a new rhythm to the night. The city seemed to enjoy this sudden change in nature, and so with every step the sound was amplified and carried far beyond the norm, much to the runner's dismay. A stray cat ambled from a dead end ally, and its eyes glittered in the semi night cast by Leth before Syna began her reign once more. Its slit eyes turned to watch the runner curiously, in an almost absent sort of way as most cats have. Then, with a yawn it turned and ventured forth into the night, its domain as large as the city itself. Whatever the reason for this runner's presence, it was certain that he had a purpose. His steps were guided, assured and confident, never slowing or altering their course. Those thundering footsteps seemed to follow an invisible map, and the city itself almost seem to bend in the direction of the figures destination. Soon enough the foot steps stopped as the figure halted before a single building. From his pocket her produced a letter, and on the front was scrawled in neat lettering the name of someone in particular. Inside there would be a simple message, one that could not be mistaken. "To the holder of this letter, Come to the Sun and Star's tavern three bells past noon. We have what you desire most." The deed done, the messenger turned and set off once more, his footsteps ringing in the silence, but as he ran further and further his footsteps would fade to nothing. If one were to try and follow they would make it as far as a certain alley, but just as one turned to corner to follow, the messenger will have disappeared.

[Shai]

Shai had run an ivory finger tip over the letter, cautiously breaking the seal with her index nail. In the overwhelming silence of a frigid winter night a subtle pulse raced; the letter had to be a hoax. None of the three men she’d come to associate with the tavern knew of her deepest desire. The words penned so arrogantly, ripped against her twice-healed and scarred heart strings. She had no hope for truth behind the claims. Normally it would be a blessing that she found this letter and not Antar, but these insipid gentlemen would learn why you never crossed the Symenestra woman who shadowed the ghostly rogue.

In the early afternoon, Shai posed in her room. Slowly she twisted her hair into complicated knots towards a dual purpose; it would match her dress and keep it out of her way. Today, Shai actually chose to wear her gold and crimson dress; it was a rare occasion. Sliding her fans, knives, and thieving tools into the pockets in the long enveloping sleeves Shai prepared for the worst though she presumed the confrontation would be a social nature. The three young men hadn’t seemed the violent type, but she could always be wrong. Slipping silken stocking’d feet into lovely red embroidered slippers the spider headed for the door, snatching up her cloak as she did. Normally the cloak held her tools but it seemed advantageous to have them at hand when the cloak wasn’t called for.

I wonder what Antar would say if he knew I was wearing the dress. She mused idly while taking the streets with only a momentary pause to raise the dress’s hood. Originally its intent had been to obscure her inhuman features; today it would be to pronounce her femininity. In her limited experience with men the very best way to set them off ease was to present them with a woman they couldn’t control. She would never be in their power so that aspect was simple, but it was unlike her to exclaim her gender so loudly; in Sunberth being a woman made you a target.

Curiously, she had left early assuming the city would befuddle her path. Instead, she arrived promptly at the remembered door belonging to the Sun and Star’s Tavern. Perhaps Shai ought to have considered why the city allowed such expedient travel but her focus was more on the coming encounter. Which of the men was it that thought they could extort her? Laszlo hadn’t seemed the type. The Dra? Only if he truly didn’t understand what it meant to be her kin. The last… the human, oh yes, he was just slimy enough to pull it. I will have to watch for Victor… was her trained of thoughts as she jiggled the handle; locked. No matter an arrogant internal comment.

Easing the pick and wrench from her sleeve she began to work the lock, using her body to shield view. Conscientiously Shai made noises so it didn’t seem as though she tried to hide her activity, attempting to seem more like a woman fiddling with keys. Nothing was more suspicious than someone trying to hide their actions. Lining up the mechanism with her pick and holding it place with her wrench she finally popped it open and the door clicked open. She finished by tucking the picks up into her hair; spreading her tools further just in case she had to reveal one of her hiding spots. Slowly the svelte thief entered the tavern.

Empty… Perfect . Toeing across the floor, she made for the bar but was careful to step where the boards were nailed down to avoid creeks. The bar was her goal, she’d had this part of the plan worked out perfectly this morning. Lifting herself up she sat upon the counter usually reserved for serving alcohol, at least in most establishments. Sorting her skirt precisely she indulged in a tiny sinister curl of her lips before hooking a slipper around the nearest stool and tipping it over with calculated force. The stool not only clattered to the ground but slid several feet. Time to see what fish I catch with my bait.


In all her planning though, Shai had never considered the note might be from another source than the gentlemen of the Sun and Stars.

[Victor Lark]

Victor sat up in his bed with a sigh, curling his toes against the cold floorboards as they touched. Having since caught his breath, he leaned briefly back to steal a few more kisses from his fool beside him, then rose to stand. Dressed only in a thin film of fresh sweat, he shuffled to the dresser and the small window beside it. The bed’s tangle of sheets, and the white body within them, squirmed beneath the intruding light as he parted the curtains and then regarded the dresser, idly wiping his thumb over red, half-numb lips. He chose a pair of black pants and a green shirt, throwing them over one shoulder and grabbing a fistful of smallclothes.

“Let’s go out for lunch today,” he suggested, departing from the room and leaving the door ajar.

He stepped to the adjacent bathroom, where he splashed some water from a stagnant bowl onto his face and underarms, then donned his clothes and pulled a brush through his hair. He kicked his shoes on; crossed through the bedroom to grab his keys, cards, and dagger; and stomped down the stairs. The ruckus was message enough that he was ready to leave. The thought did not occur to him that there might be someone else to hear it.

The door to the tavern proper whispered against the floor. The wood did not creak until Victor stepped on it, his blank greys immediately drawn to the woman at, or rather on, the bar. Without ceremony, his eyes darted instantly to the door, which was open and apparently unlocked, and then danced over the rest of the premises, searching candidly for signs of larceny or mischief. His previous experiences with the symenestra reminded him that he would be forced to trust her, at least at first, so he did not look long. When the moment was over, he regarded her again with a sterling smile. “Hello, darling,” he protested. “What brings you?”

OOCI left the timing of their waking vague so that Mirage can choose whether or not to have us wait for three hours.

[Seven Xu]

Lingering sweat had already begun to cool and prickle alabaster skin. Seven clapped a hand across his face and rubbed his eyes before he sat up. Sleep had nearly taken him after, but he managed to untangle himself from spent bed sheets and find the cold embrace of a porcelain tub. There, he poured the murky leavings of Victor’s basin over his head and scrubbed himself clean of musk and seed and sweat, before his steps lead him back to the bedroom, and then downstairs.

The halfblood slipped barefoot from the staircase, brows beetled, mouth slack. A grey wool-knit sweater clung to his shoulders, hung past his waist and swallowed his hands if he did not endlessly fuss with the sleeves. It was warm, and that’s what mattered. His damp hair had faded, grown pale from its swarthy hue, and tendrils of pure white vied to reclaim his scalp like hoarfrost on a late fall crop. Guarded scarlet darted to his bird, while the heat of embarrassment swelled up the column of his neck. How long had she been here?

Clouds moved on the yellow sun, high in a tiled sky, bringing rain that pattered against the ceiling and the street outside, wrapping them in a grey-gold world. Seven pursed his lips and let his eyes drift into the narrow crooks of his eyes before finally turning his head toward her with a thin smile. “Shai, right? Do you need something? We aren’t open yet.” Unable to keep his stare locked on the Widow (something about her unnerved him), he opted to take silent inventory of the bottles and mugs stored neatly behind her.

[Laszlo]

Almost immediately, Laszlo had forgotten what had woken him up. Golden eyes peeled open, welcoming in Syna's light which poured from a nearby window. For a long moment, Laszlo lay paralyzed in warm comfort as he waited for his vision to unblur. Slowly, he began to recognize the boards in the ceiling, and the way they sloped down a slanted ceiling. The light in his room was quite bright, so he estimated that it was well past noon, but nowhere near sunset. Realizing he would not need to ready the bar for a while at least, his heavy eyelids began to slide shut again. There was a soft, female moan next to his ear as a small, soft body shifted against his. A thin arm tightened around his waist. Laszlo turned to rest his face against a mat of tangled hair, eager to return to his dreamless sleep. His eyes opened again. No, he had woken up for a reason. It was something important. There was a sound, he remembered. A crash from downstairs. That's right. It was probably Seven and Victor, doing something. The last time he'd ignored the sounds of crashing, however, a woman ended up dying in a lake of blood in their bed. It was probably best just to see what was going on. After abandoning the woman in his bed and dressing himself, Laszlo was descending the stairs as he worked to tie his hair in a gentleman's cue. There was still fatigue in his limbs, both from exhaustion and a lingering hangover. Such were the perils of tending bar into the early hours of the morning. At least the afternoons still (usually) provided him with plenty of chance to rest. The door to the stairway opened. "What are you two up to now—" Laszlo stopped in his tracks as he realized there was a third person in the room, not just Victor and Seven. He recognized the violet gaze of Shai, and for a moment stood silent and nonplussed. Finally, Laszlo let out a sigh and shot a dark look at Victor. "Oh for Goddess' sake, please tell me you didn't bring her here." Laszlo approached the bar, leaning over to pick up the barstool that someone, probably Victor, had recently knocked over. "Hello Shai," he greeted flatly, forcing a smile at her. "We've met before. I'm Laszlo. Do you remember, at the theater? Tell me, you're not here about a lost bet, are you?"

[Shai]

The spider smirked; she’d caught all three. How convenient. “To answer you all succinctly, one of you did bring me here. I wish to know who.” Pulling the incriminating letter from her sleeve, Shai held it out for which ever man chose to take the letter. This missive had led the thief to believe someone intended blackmail. “Consider yourselves lucky this letter found my fingertips and not his.” She added quietly. There would be a time for rage when he who presumed so much was identified. As much as the Symenestra hoped those of her blood would not be so base as to threaten another of their kin, but these two might be too far removed. “Yes, Laszlo. I remember you; all of you, I can only guess there are not so many of your persuasion in Alvadas.” The amethyst eyes roved over the three with a brief pause on the horns sprouting from the Ethafael’s head. An unfortunate affliction. “And no, I have lost no bets. But be assured when I do lose, it is quite on purpose." Her statement, though dripping with arrogance was true. Not to speak to her gambling abilities but instead to her ability to scheme, she rarely if ever got into situations where the scales weren’t tipped in her favor. On the rare occasion she did, there was also an alternative plan that left the spider on top. Of course, even the second plan failed on occasion, but this afternoon she was confident. These three grown men held no fear for the Symenestra though an errant thought wafted through her mind. Perhaps I should have told Antar where I was headed. Just for insurance. It was at the passing of this thought that the thief thought to seek aid from her familiar, the mostly silent but always pretentious Chell. The familiar lay sealed as a small gem nestled in her in-considerable bust, faceted into a silver necklace. Chell, watch their faces. Remember their words to follow precisely. After a pause, which always made Shai wonder if the creature was asleep or if he even did sleep, the Irylid replied through her mind. Accepted. I will examine for later recall. Shai, do not do anything reckless.

[Victor Lark]

Victor gave a laugh to Laszlo’s suggestion, resenting the topic and the woman’s vain response. His feet brought him toward her, passing his fellows in favor of their guest. He reached the bar and kept going, sliding up beside the frail woman. He pressed against her, wrapping a hand around the slender arm opposite. “You can’t live if you haven’t lost, sweet thing,” he recited to her, and satisfied his own pride with words he could not understand.

His stomach turned and threatened to growl, but managed silence when he recalled that eating in meant a mug of warm ale and half a hard loaf of bread. He offered a glance to Seven, which was at once a patient assurance and a glimpse at his mask. He thought to drop his arm and wedged it between himself and Shai instead, eyeing Laszlo for any hint as to his morning’s state of mind. Finding nothing in the perfunctory search, he explained, “She hasn’t gambled with me, you see.” He turned to Shai. “You came all on your own. But why?”

Victor plucked the letter from her hand and stretched it out before him. Once he had gone over it a second time, he arched a brow and curled his lips inward. He looked up and offered the page to whoever would take it, flailing at the end of a languid arm. “Clever,” he commented, shoving his shoulder into hers. “And what is it you desire most?”

[Seven Xu]

Two bone-pale fingers snatched the brandished letter from the air. Seven turned it upright, scrutinizing it from between narrowed eyelids. “This isn’t my hand,” the letter was passed along to the Synaborn. Recalling the ethaefal’s penmanship on their tavern’s deed, he tilted his head and added, “It isn’t his, either.”

The halfblood fixed his curious leer on the defensive girl. She was fullblooded waiflike grace, no doubt as quick to envenom flesh as easily as she had her words. She was symenestra. She was where human minds wandered when they looked upon his diluted face. Gooseprickles caught his skin like wildfire and surged up his arms. Seven sucked on his lip. He thought to tug Victor away. Venomous retribution still lingered in fading purple beneath layers of healed olive skin; it was a lesson his bird seemed eager to forget.

“You must believe us,” and why? “We barely even know you—why would any of us lure you here?” He could not help tip a wary look in Laszlo’s direction, long enough to catch molten amber before darting away. He certainly hadn’t helped with his candid accusation. Shoulders rose and dropped, loosing the tension that had gathered there. “Can I get you something to drink?”

[Laszlo]

"More of us than you'd think," Laszlo mumbled darkly as he took the letter from Seven's proffering hand. Rubbing at his eye, he swallowed as he read it, fighting back the bitter bile flavor of a memory not quite buried from last Winter. Fewer now than there were a few months ago. The wording in the letter almost sounded like Victor's, but it was too direct. Anonymous notes weren't his style, anyway. Finding nothing else useful, Laszlo shook his head as he handed the crinkling paper back to Shai. "Sorry. No idea." It was curious, but at least Laszlo was convinced that Shai hadn't been lured here by either Victor or Seven. They were a lot of things, among them murderers, but neither of them were liars. It was a bit unnerving to see Victor get so happily intimate with her, but Laszlo gathered that the three of them were already somewhat acquainted. Perhaps Alvadas was a small town. Or a large one. Anyone's guess, really. Stifling a yawn, Laszlo pulled himself into a bar stool at the far end of the countertop, leaning heavily on his right arm. There was a bed, still warm, waiting for him upstairs, but the Ethaefal would linger here long enough to at least find out what this was about. Resting his cheek upon his fingers, he privately batted away the fatigue that still pulled at him. It was still so unnatural, seeing a Symenestra out of her element. Seven was human enough, as well as familiar, that he didn't really seem as much out of place (with his dark hair, he looked less inhuman now than before). The light was too harsh on her pale skin, a countenance meant for shadows. Watching her move, though, was fascinating. A being made of legs and silk. She was more graceful on her feet than Seven, or even Laszlo, being a purer Symenestra and a more practiced one. The golden pools of Laszlo's eyes took on hues of pleasant nostalgia. Part of him missed Kalinor. "Who delivered it to you? Did he say where it was from?"

[Mirage]

All were assembled, and the air within the tavern was one of mixed emotions and much curiosity. Certainly, this was a day where anything could happen... and so it should continue. As the four continued to talk, unknown to them there was a group fast approaching the Sun and Stars tavern. At their lead strode a tall man, his dress bright and colorful just as the city itself was. Breeches of a dark red color covered all the way down to his sandled feet, and his tunic was of a slightly lighter shade of red. Upon his shoulders rested a billowing cloak of a startling shade of crimson, bright and vibrant that reflected his own shining smile and shimmering aura. Upon his head was a wide brimmed hat tilted at a slight angle, and the man's hand absently held it in place as he walked. "Oy, Nami! What are you doing back there? Hurry up or you wont get any to drink." His voice was lound, full of spirit and with a slight hint of laughter. Behind him, struggling to keep up with his brisk past, strode a woman of rather impressive proportions. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and the modest cut of her black robes did little to hide her pleasing figure. In her hands she held a clipboard, and on her face was an expression of exasperation. She wore little in the way of makeup, for she found it rather trying and attracted more unwanted attention than anything else. On the bridge of her nose sat a pair of silver rimmed spectacles, and her sharp eyes never strayed from the man's back. "Mr. Shillingham, please. It is still too early to drink, and you have far too much work to do back at the office. Please, let us return and finish filling out those forms that--" "Bah, Nami, learn to live a little! There will be time a plenty for paper work AFTER I have had myself a pint. Also, I hear this place has the best in Alvadas, and surly we should investigate these rumors no?" "Actually sir, I think--" Laurence waved a hand, "You think too much Nami, learn to live a little why don't you?" There was a derisive snort from a third companion, and a voice that dripped with sarcasm, [color][color=#FF8000]"Honestly, you are both idiots. Its still the high of noon, what place would open its doors this early?" The voice came from another girl who walked just behind Nami, the heavy clunk of her boots on the ground followed close behind the other woman's hurried steps. There was the sound of moving chains as the girl brushed a hand over her rather fantastic hair style. The hair was jet black at the roots, and it flowed down into straight locks until it reached her ears, where it suddenly spiked out in several directions, the tips of each spike either pink or green. Her make up was just as flashy, dark blue eye liner brought attention to her rather cold looking eyes and long eyelashes. Her clothing was rather punkish, spikes adorned her dark leather jerkin, and a spiked collars around her neck and wrists were all hung with chains that circled behind her to attach to her dark colored breeches. These chains would clank together with each movement, every step and nearly every expression she made, for she talked with her hands often. The man snorted, casting his gaze over the shorter woman behind him, "Have you no faith in me Camel? Where there is miza there is a way." Shillingham winked, but his gesture was met with an exasperated sigh and rolling eyes. Nami looked over her glasses at the shorter woman, "You know, you did not have to come... and actually, what are you doing here anyway? Do you not have work to do yourself?" Camel shrugged her spiked shoulders, the should of chains jingling with every movement, ]"I was bored, and besides why should you get to have all the fun Miss Big Butt? I work hard all day you know, so I deserve a bit of fun too." Her eyes shot to Shillingham and back to Nami, a smile touching her ruby lips, "Besides, Laurence invited me." Nami's mouth opened a closed a few times, but finally she shut it and glared at Camel for a moment longer before turning to speak to Laurence once more, "Mr. Shillingham see reason. These papers must be signed promptly, and you still need to file a report of all the latest arrivals into the city. You know that Alluvia will be breathing down your neck if you don't. Laurence sighed, stopping so suddenly that Nami almost ran into him, and Camel cursed rather loudly at his stupidity once more. His eyes turned to look into Nami's directly, giving her the full of his attention as he grasped each of her shoulders. The Supervisor felt her heart thud suddenly in her chest, a slight blush rising to her cheeks as she looked up into this man's shining eyes. "Nami... my dearest Nami... What would I do without your gentle persuasions? You have always kept me on track, always seen to it that I never strayed from the path of righteousness". Camel faked gagged from behind Nami, but neither paid any attention to her, "Oh my dearest, my beautiful Nami. You work so hard, and yet I do so little for you. You deserver so much more than I have to offer." Laurence closed his eyes, a pained expression painting his features as he turned his head away. Nami shook her head, the barest traces of tear drops in the very corners of her eyes, "Oh, no! No Mr. Shillingham! You do every so much as the Head of the department. You are so kind, and generous and the people love you... and... S-so do... Laurence peaked back at Nami, a small smile on his lips before he quickly replaced it with the mask of pain once more. Meeting her eyes once more he placed a finger on Nami's lips, stopping her words before they could be spoken, "Oh Nami, If I could I would give you all in this world... But since I am no god then at the very least allow me to show you a good time? You deserve a break from all of your hard work, and I... He closed his eyes, a look if strong emotions flooding his face as he took a shuddering breath and continued, "If you would allow me, I would see you smiling at my side this day. Please, will you join me?" Nami nodded quickly, a smile spreading her lips as she brushed the wetness from her eyes, "Ok Laurence. I suppose we can take the night off, just this once." The man's face broke out in a grin, and he wrapped Nami up in a feirce hug and spun her once before setting her back on her feet, letting her out to arms length as he spoke, "Oh thank you Nami! Your generosity and goodness knows no bounds!" With that he released the woman, turning to stride forward once more, leaving Nami standing in the street for a few moments after, a dreamy look in her eyes. Camel glanced at Nami and rolled her eyes, hurrying to catch up to Laurence. Once at his side she coughed, "You know that is rather manipulative of you, twisting a young woman's heart like that. Some might call it evil." Laurence smiled down at Camel, "How can it be evil, if I meant every word?" Camel rolled her eyes at this, so he continued, "What are you complaining for? This way she is happy and we can enjoy ourselves." Camel sighed, shaking her head and falling a step behind Laurence, "You really are an idiot." Laurence shrugged, smiling as Nami caught up with them once more, "I would like to think of myself as poetic." This was met with rolling eyes once more. Then they arrived, the Sun and Stars tavern looked pristine in the mid day sun, but Laurence spared little time in examening the door. With a confident stride the man through the door wide, laughing loudly and spreading his arms, "So this is it? Wonderful! You there, are you the owner? He pointed at Victor, "Come man, your finest ale and come join me in a drink!" Camel and Nami soon followed Laurence inside, Nami moving to pull in Laurence's sleeve, "Don't be rude sir. Ask politely." Camel laughed, pointing at Laurence, "This idiot is about as polite and graceful as a glassbeak at dinner time. We will be lucky if they don't charge us for breaking and entering." "My dear Camel, the door was open so, clearly, I was in the right by coming inside. Is that not so my good sirs? He paused, catching sight of Shai, And madam?" Each of these three wore the badges of their office. Laurence's was a band on his upper left arm. Nami's was on her clipboard, and Camel's was carved into the leather of her jerkin. Laurence would proceed to take a seat at the bar, turing to wave Nami and Camel over as he undid a rather full looking money pouch. The clank of miza's could be heard across the room. Nami would stand close to Laurence, and she would offer an apologetic smile to the four before them. Camel would simply plop down in the nearest chair and prop her feet up on a table, simply looking around the tavern with eyes that seemed to be looking for something wrong with it. OOCCamel's bade is actually the mark of the Speakers, in case any of your characters know who they are. Feel free to react however your want. Try to throw them out, be stunned to silence or ask questions. Laurence tips well, FYI ^.^