Quest Tick Tock, Tick Tock (Matthew)

[Mirage]

40th of Spring, 514 AV It was a day like any other. Spring was here, the sun was shining high overhead, birds chirped in a cheery melody despite the dangers of the city. Crooks and thieves, whores and thugs. All intermingled here and there in the dusty and dirty alleyways, the uneven and unorganized mess of a city plagued by disaster and death and corruption. This city without laws, without virtue, without rule. Little did it know that the eyes of something greater had turn toward it this day. For Matthew it was just another day as he went on toward one job or another. The streets were just as they always were, the people as normal as people can be in Sunberth. There was no clue, no indication for what was about to happen next. He never could have expected it, never would have guessed that today of all days would turn out like it would... Well, so most would think. Unlike the majority, however, Matthew had a glimpse into the future that was yet to come. A woman brushed by him, long auburn hair tied in a quick and untidy braid. There was a whiff of dirt and sweat, and a faint hint of rose petals that seemed to trigger a sense of deja vu. It was gone just as quickly as it had come though, and soon Matthew was moving forward once more. There was a call on the left as he passed through the Bazaar, the smell of freshly baked bread as it hit the cobblestones and shouts from the baker at the poor boy who caused such a waste of good food. A spark of a memory that was not quite there, and then gone before it could be deciphered just as before. It was just a normal day, an ordinary outing, a perfectly uninteresting, dull and inconsequential day. From the corner of his eye a figure strolled into view. Someone with an impossibly long robe, her eyes looking directly at him, but when he looked toward her she was gone. Probably just his imagination acting up again. Then the event that would set it all in motion occured. Matthew would feel a bump from behind and a small boy would push past him, looking up at him with a dirty face and grin showing two missing front teeth. Then he rushed past, pulling a girl a fair bit older than him by the hand as they darted through the crowd and passed down an alleyway. It was rather odd, but still nothing of real concern. Then shouting was heared, and two more figures rushed past him, figures dressed in black with hood and masks. Shoving Matthew out of the way they turned down the same alley as the children, clearly following them. Then perhaps Matthew would make another discovery... His coin purse, which just so happened to be on his belt today, was missing. The child probably stole it! What was there to do? They were already being chased, but by who? Was it worth it to chase after them? That was for Matthew to decide. OOCOK! So the date can be changed however you wish it to be changed, and you can decide what Matthew was doing today in your post. This is entirely up to you. Will Matthew follow the thieves and pursuers, or will he shrug it off and continue his day? That is for you to decide

[Matthew]

He had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with him to Ruby's. All of his current outfits were dirty, and he had meant to wash them earlier this morning. Instead, he had done something that was very unlike him and had simply forgotten. In return, this meant he was forced to make the trip to the Doctor's Clinic in the uniform that Ruby forced her men to wear. If he wouldn't have made the commitment to be at the Clinic within a certain time-frame then he would have still been able to wash his clothes. But no, the entire day had arranged itself in just the perfect way, a way which left the skilled harlot walking through the streets of Sunberth in a single black bow tie and a pair of simple black britches. He was getting a few looks thrown his way, he could definitely feel them. At least everyone knew who he was associated with. A lot of people in Sunberth already knew him, though most of those people were the questionable sort. He had spent his time here working with whores and healing murderous mercenaries and gladiators. Time well spent, the harlot thought. The woman brushed by and he instinctively patted his pockets. It was a simple brushing motion, one fine-tuned over a few seasons of living in Sunberth. Practically every bump or brush was a potential robbery and his coin was important to him. He worked hard for it. The scent of flowers tickled his nose, the associated deja vu causing him to blink, but he soon discarded it and moved on. He had places to be. The deja vu struck again, and again, and again, and Matthew's step briefly faltered, then continued on. He had tried to remember something and then quickly forgotten that he was trying to remember it. Then there was another woman, another blink, and then a bump. It was a small boy and then his older sister, or at least Matthew assumed. For some reason on this one day, on this one specific moment, he did not check his pockets immediately. When Matthew looked back on it all, that would be one of the very first things he reviewed. Why hadn't he checked his pockets immediately, like he had done hundreds of other times? He didn't trust children even more than he didn't trust any of the other residents of Sunberth. But he didn't check his pockets. If he would have, perhaps he could have lunged and grabbed them before they were too far out of reach. Funny how that one little thing would be the thing that mattered most, would be the thing that set everything else in to motion. No, perhaps it had been the first bump. In hindsight, he would one day decide to blame it on the children. He wasn't fond of children. The next figures though, the ones with the hoods and the masks, those made him check his pockets. It was at the same time he browsed his mental library for some previous record of the masked fellows did he realize that he was missing his entire purse. Normally, he would write it up as a loss and move on. This time though, there was more money in that purse than he normally put. This time he was in Sunberth and like it or not, money ruled in Sunberth. It ruled even the harlot, who could be easily bought with just the right amount of coin. Matthew didn't really second-guess himself here. He took off after the masked figures and the children. His mind quickly processed the options as he ran. Filthy children; there was a chance they were from the orphanage. He had been there just about a dozen days ago and quickly ran through all the faces he had seen, checking to see if any of them matched the children who had seemingly lifted his purse from him. The masked men, they were a different story. He decided not to try to catch up to them, just to chase them as they chased the children. If they turned to look he would make a show of calling out for the children, demanding his coin-purse, even using Jillene's name to test for a reaction. He wasn't sure if the masked strangers were trouble, but he certainly didn't want trouble. If they gave up the chase he'd run right past them as long as they didn't look like they were going to try and stop him. He had asked Kaie to stay with him for this very sort of thing. Why hadn't he asked her to come along? Why hadn't he checked his pockets?

[Mirage]

The chase would not be an overly long one. It lead them from the stalls and heavy crowds and throw some allies not often tread. The children would always be out of sight, but from time to time Matthew would catch a glimpse of a dark figure circling a corner or climbing over a crate. As they went the streets got narrower, and narrower until they could only move in single file after the kids. Then, all too suddenly, Markus would find himself faced with a wall of blanks and discarded boxes that stretched as high as the roofs of the buildings on either side of him. As luck would have it though, there was a small opening and through it he could see the children pressed back against the wall of a dead end, the two black figures stalking closer.

One figure on the right, the slightly taller one, grumbled and hissed in a tongue that the harlot would not recognize, but the children it seemed understood well as the boy inched further in front of the girl, pressing her into a corner and shielding her with his own body.

"Do not run... It is over." The one on the right spoke in common, his voice low and rasping, slightly garbled as he struggled to form each syllable, "Come with us..."

"NO!" the boy shouted, his little fist clenched around Matthew's own coin purse, "We're not going back! Petch the island and every one of you on it!"

There was a thrum in the air, a pulse that rattled the ground and pushed Matthew's hair back from his face. Something slammed into the artificial wall, shattering it to splinters and sending Matthew sailing back into the opposite wall of stone. Two other figures joined him, one skidding in the dirt at his feet while the other slammed into the wall next to him. The one beside him shook its head, slowly raising up. It's arm was twisted backwards, but with an absent tug the bones snapped back into place as he tested its fingers. Then it turned its eyes on Matthew, and now the mask was gone. What it had been covering up was a lower half of a face that was pure bone, yellowed with age with muscles and tendons clearly visible as they worked to open its mouth and speak in the rasping voice, "Who are you...?"

The one at Matthew's feet raised himself up as well and with his hood and mask gone it could be seen he did not have a lower jaw at all. His skin was pealing off in large patches. Both of their eyes were sunken and dead, skin pale with dark circles under their eyes. Standing, the one missing the lower half of his face looked back to the alley, and the Children were gone. Both turned back to Matthew, leaning forward to stare unblinkingly. The one that could still speak said slowly, "Speak... Speak to the Silence."

[Matthew]

The harlot came running up, a tad late to the party and breath coming out in short gasps. He wasn't sculpted for fitness, he was sculpted to be appealing to the eye. Perhaps this was something he would have to take the time to work on in the future. His pumping legs and churning arms had left this burn in his chest that seemed to spiderweb throughout each and every breath he took, causing such a simple and required action to be filled with irritating pain. But at least he was here, and at least the children now appeared to be trapped. They seemed scared of the two cloaked figures slowly approaching them, but Matthew didn't linger on that for the moment. Contrary to what most people seemed to think of him, he wasn't exactly the most moral of creatures. Currently the small children were things that had taken something from him. He needed that something back. Petch the island, the boy said? They were quite a ways from any islands. The Konti Isle and Sahova were the only ones he could think up off the top of his head. He cleared his throat softly and stepped forward, ready to inject himself into the odd conversation and liberate his coin purse. That was before a force lifted him from his feet. He was airborne for a few moments, intellectual mind briefly trying to figure out if he was being pushed by wind or by something else. Then his feet hit the dirt, instinctively skidding to try and stop his momentum, kicking up a cloud of dust. It didn't do much good, just adding to his aches and pains before he firmly slammed into a stone wall. Pebbles rained down around him as he hissed in pain, bones creaking and skin scraping. He had no doubt that blood was beginning to spring from the lightly-shredded flesh. The harlot did a quick mental check of himself to make sure no bones were cracked or broken and then slowly pushed up off of the stone wall. Pain accompanied the movement but he ignored it, pushing it outside of his center of cold calm. A quick scan showed him the children were gone, likely still accompanied by his coin purse. He then turned his head to stare at the two other strangers and was met by their own heads oddly twisting to meet his stare. His blue matched their unblinking stare, his own eyes unblinking as well as he studied the two abominations. He didn't feel fear or disgust, merely curiosity. Nuit? If they were Nuit, they were certainly not well-kept Nuit, not like Isolde or Evalin had been. He slowly leaned forward, coming closer and closer to the one with the missing jaw, keeping his eyes locked at all times. When he was merely a hair away he took a deep sniff, checking the air for the smell of rot. Was it actually a Nuit in a decomposing body, or something more? Absentmindedly he answered their question, voice soft and polite. "I am Matthew. The small boy stole my coin purse from me. I work in the city as a prostitute. Who are you?" The Silence, they had said? He was so focused on his own thoughts that he continued to instinctively speak, words briefly becoming almost alluring. "Would you like to buy my wares?"

[Mirage]

The one that spoke looked at his companion, rising slowly as Matthew did, but as the harlot found his feet he would also find bony fingers latched around his throat, pressing him back against the bricks of the alley wall, the wind cut off and unable to speak.

"You do not question the Silence..." It said, leaning forward to stare into Matthew's eyes. Then, growing closer still, the creature sniffed the man before leaning back to hold him at arms length, "Stole your purse... Then the children are no friends of yours...?" But the hand on Matthews throat was clamped too tight and he would be unable to answer. The other creature walked up on Matthew's other side, already sliding his hood and mask back into place so that all that could be seen were his eyes, dull and lifeless as they were.

Finally the grip on the man's neck would be released, the Silence stepping back and taking a dagger from his beneath his cloak. Unsheathing the blade the creature would press the tip against Matthew's throat as he spoke softly, his voice growing more horse the longer he talked, "They... Will seek you out... If they are no friends of yours then, when you see them next you will take this dagger." Grabbing Matthew's hand and pressing the weapon into his palm and wrapping his fingers around the hilt, "And cut one finger. We will come then, and we will remove them from your life. In return the Silence will ensure your Miza's are returned, and you shall not be troubled by the children again."

Stepping back the obvious leader snapped his fingers, his companion quickly shuffled to his side. Turning away, back toward the street, the creature looked back and said as a final form of farewell, "Do not try and fool the Silence, and do not throw away the dagger. If you do we will find you, and your life will fall to Silence completely... Find the Children and summon us. Then, all of this will be over." With that they both turned and left, disappearing into the crowded streets.

The weapon in Matthew's hand was black from the hilt to the tip of the blade. Its edge was curved backwards, and it was obviously very sharp. Luckily it was no longer than the Harlot's palm and easily concealed. Now Matthew was left alone, left to decide what he would do next. Where should he go? What should he do? How was he going to find these children again? That, was up to him.

OOCHere is where I follow your lead. Take the thread/Matthew wherever you think he would go. DO whatever you think he would do, and then I will take over from there ^.^

[Matthew]

For some odd reason, the fact that the Silence leaned forward and sniffed him made him feel somewhat... comfortable. After all, sniffing had been his first impulse. He was validated in that, it seemed. But comfort was quickly replaced by a steadily growing sense of peril. He couldn't breathe. His mind went through the same motions that it had whenever he had first been put in this sort of situation. He could remember it well. Razkar had been the one to grab him back then. Back then he hadn't been able to defend himself. He had been helpless, not a single option at his disposal. This time though? This time he was better. This time he wouldn't just face death and have to hope he was lucky enough for it to pass over him. If anything, he could at least show some form of defiance before it was time to go. Grabbing the bony fingers to try and give himself some leverage, to try and give himself any extra possible, he dipped his hand in his djed and swirled. It was about then that he was let go, droppng unharmed to his feet. He paused, hesitating, the harlot glancing back and forth between the two of them. Should he still strike? The speed and strength of the creatures had obviously been far above his own capacity for such feats. If he struck now, would it not only anger the creatures? He gave his djed a swirl, lighting it inside of him, flooding it through his veins. He could at least be prepared. The dagger was regarded with some suspicion. It was regarded with even further suspicion when it was pressed to his throat. He still withheld from striking out with his magic, used to such tactics because of his time in Sunberth. Hopefully this creature would be like the rest and only use the tip of the dagger as a form of intimidation. If he struck with no warning, the harlot would likely meet his end rather suddenly. Thankfully though, the dagger was removed and actually given to Matthew. He stared at it, listening as the "Silence" struck their deal with him. It was a rather one-sided deal, really. He wasn't used to being demanded to do a task and then getting paid. He considered his options, of which there were very few, absentmindedly making a small mental note about which was the leader and which was the sidekick. But really, for now, it didn't matter. He had no qualms with the Silence and he had one qualm with the Children. At the moment, it was fairly easy to align himself. So off the harlot went, through the streets to find the Children. He did pause near a random scrap of wood to test the dagger, seeing how much pressure needed to be applied in order to make a mark. Once he was fairly satisfied that he could accurately apply enough force to draw blood but not cut off his finger, he moved on. A quick change of clothes was gathered from the Doctor's Clinic, his circumstances very briefly explained. The Doctor was more than delighted to hear he was out to draw blood from a couple of children (the story was modified a bit) and happily let Matthew skip out on his volunteer duties for today. Some time was lost in doing this, but it did serve a purpose. It gave him long-sleeves instead of no shirt at all. The dagger was hidden in his sleeve, a bit of the blade very gently cupped in his palm. And so the search began. First was the orphanage, as well as any of the other places he had spotted children in the past few days. Children were attracted to children, were they not? His search was quiet and methodical, patient and thorough. If he encountered any prostitutes on the street, as long as they were ones that he had grown familiar with during his time here, then he would be quick and polite in giving a description of the children and asking if they had been seen. During a quiet moment, he made sure to take the time to actually use some of djed that he had swirled from deep within his body. He burned a small piece of it, waving the fumes to his eyes, absorbing the djed and using it to light a completely different world. Auras popped into place here and there, but it was only the aura of the dagger that he was interested in. He would be careful, making sure that the aura wasn't anything that could blind him. Then he would slowly focus more and more onto it, bringing it into view (though it remained hidden in his sleeve), concentrating to see if he could derive anything from his Auristic sight.

[Mirage]

With his Auristic enhanced senses the first thing that Matthew would notice was the smell. Strong and ripe came the smell of rot, decay and disease from the dagger. Like a body soaked in the river and left to its own for several days, then piled beneath heaps of trash and other terrible scents. The smell along was staggering, yet should he actually turn his eyes toward the dagger he would see a creeping aura, black as the blade that inched out and wrapped Matthew's arm, clinging to him like shadowy fingers. His skin in those areas would feel extra sensitive, slightly itchy but it was not so much that he could not ignore it.

Matthew's path lead him from one side of the city to the next, from the orphanage to the whore house. The trail he followed was a winding one. Different people saw different things, others flatly ignored the questions, eyeing Matthew with suspicion. At last, however, one prostitute who seemed to fancy the Harlot well enough provided a bit of information that he might find useful.

"Aye I seen 'em. Poor little things, came on a boat several weeks ago. I feed 'em from time ta time, but don't get any more involved then tha'. I see 'em sometimes come from the direction of the Bazaar. I 'spect they got a place out there all to 'emselves."

With that information Matthew would choose whether to go searching for them now, despite the sun's peak already far behind him, or to wait for another day. Whatever he chose, however, when he found himself on the hunt in the Bazaar it would be a long one. Plenty there saw the children, but none knew where they resided. In the end, Matthew would just have to wander on his own, searching almost aimlessly down each and every alley, until luck would strike as he passed one run down building, its roof slanting down in broken remnants of the past desasters so that it almost touched the street, forming a ramp of sorts.

"Shh it's OK sis. Don't worry, we will be alright." The voice came from above, on the roof "Look, I got some food. Please eat, it will make you feel better."

The slanted roof would lead up the the connected rooftops that circled around the entire Bazaar, and there one house over was a makeshift shelter crafted out of bits of old wood, crates and tarps of some kind, most likely discarded remains of a ship from the port. Through a large cut in the covering the boy could be seen crouching beside the girl who lay at an awkward angle, eyes closed and her breathing short. The boy held what looked like a broken off piece of a ceramic bowl in his hands, and with it he was trying to ushure a bit of water past the girl's lips, but she would not drink.

"You have to drink or you wont get better... Please, just try." the boy lifted the girls head slightly, letting her rest against his knee as he tried again. This time she opened her mouth, taking slow swallows but was barely able to down enough to fill a thimble. The boy gently brushed the hair from her sweat soaked forehead, a nervous smile on his lips, "There, you see you will be alright. You will feel better soon I know it..." but his eyes didn't show the confidence his words spoke of.

[Matthew]

The aura of the dagger wasn't at all comforting to the harlot. Throughout the day he would once again trickle a bit of djed to his eyes, expending it to light the world in auras once more. He just wanted to see if the odd shadow climbed up him any further. Each time he checked was another time he had to force himself not to choke and gag, the smell absolutely overpowering. Even with the sun dipping beyond the horizon though, Matthew kept going. He was a hard-working sort of man, and he had a shift to work tomorrow. He was still planning on making that shift. He was pleased to find that at least one of the prostitutes was helpful, the harlot making sure to memorize her face for future use. He would have to show his gratitude later. Perhaps buy her for a night or two, or maybe see if he could secure her a better job with either Ruby or Brega. He didn't like seeing independent whores roaming the streets. He felt that it was much more dangerous then working in a group, like he did at one of the brothels. Matthew followed her tip to the Bazaar. When he heard the noise, he managed to find his way up the makeshift ramp and to the top of the rooftops. There is where he spotted the boy and the girl. Sis, he had said. He paused, memories of his own sister suddenly flooding his mind. He hadn't thought about her in quite sometime. Chewing his lower lip thoughtfully, Matthew took a moment to activate his Auristics once again. He swirled the djed up through his veins at a slow trickle, aiming for using the accurate amount of djed over speedy casting. First he examined the boy for a moment, then studied the girl. He lingered on the girl, noticing that she appeared to be sick. Would her aura give any clues as to why she was sick? He slowly moved forward, aware the boy would likely notice him. He prepared magic for this, swirling the djed a bit faster and lacing it with just a little bit of a hypnotic suggestion. His voice spoke out, soft and polite. "Hello. You stole my coin-purse. However, perhaps more importantly to you, I have some medical training. What is wrong with your sister?" Oddly, his medical education came to mind before his current predicament did. He certainly didn't want to incite the wrath of the Silence, but somewhere along the way he had instinctively learned to apply his medical skills to those who needed it... regardless of the circumstance. Was it pity? No, he was almost sure it was professionalism. He was the same way with his body. He would sell it to almost anyone. He reached out with his hypnotic-laced djed, brushing it across both the boy and the girl. He can help us. He timed it along with his offer, wanting to make it seem as natural as possible. And he genuinely did want to help the girl. He would approach if allowed, moving quite slowly as not to draw another blast like the one the boy had shown before. That is, if the boy hadn't already lashed out with one.

[Mirage]

The boy jumped when Matthew spoke, automatically putting himself between Matthew and his sister. His eyes were wide, fearful, and suspicious all mixed in one. He had not heard the man coming closer, so preoccupied was he in his sister's condition.

The boy's fear and surprise quickly melted to anger and defiance, "Petch off, we don't need your help!" But this statement was interrupted by the girl's body bending over to a fetal position, her face a mask of pain as she fell into a fit of coughing, clear mucus with traces of red falling from her lips as she did. Her grip tightened on the boy's shirt, and he turned to hold the girl, alarm written on his face. After the girl's coughing spell passed, the boy looked up at Matthew, his eyes no friendlier but his tone softer, "O-ok... Just please, help her..." He stroked her hair once more and then slowly lowered her head back down to the hard ground, shuffling back a bit to give the Harlot some room.

Matthew's earlier inspection would catch some faint traces in the girl's aura. Around the edges it was frayed, a sickly green color. The smell of mold wafted from her body when he used his magical senses, and the tangle of copper coated his tongue. The girl's cheeks were flushed, her body trembled and she was fevered. It looked like some form of infection, but there were no obvious wounds and the only blood came from her mouth when she fell to fits of coughing. Then, if Matthew looked closer, there was something else. Something deep within her aura, faint but still there. Twisting threads, or vines of black shadows. Oddly reminiscent of the dagger that Matthew carried with him.

"Whats wrong with her?" The boy asked, sliding closer and pressing his hand against her brown. Worry showed on his features, and he looked at Matthew for the answers.

[Matthew]

The wide eyes of the boy caused Matthew to brace himself almost instinctively, his back still aching from where had been hit earlier. He had cleaned up the scrapes when he had gotten his change of clothes, but they were still stinging. He was still trying to figure out exactly what sort of magic the boy had used. Had it been the boy? Had it even been magic? He was slowly learning that there were multiple things in this world that he did not understand. Sadly, one of these things was the aura of the sick girl. When he was given permission, he slowly approached, brow furrowing as he studied what his sight had revealed to him. He didn't understand any of it. It was only the twisting black tendrils that were familar to him, but he didn't actually have any idea what it meant. There was obviously a certain them to everything though. There was that smell, a smell that was related to the smell of rot. There was the black, related to the dagger. A quick touch of her head noted her heat, while other quick checks of her pulse and eyes gave him a few more little details to go off of. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small square of cloth that he carried around in case of a messy cough or sneeze. He had to upkeep his appearance after all. A small section of it was swiped in her mouth to gather what mucus and blood he could collect, and it was sniffed as well. "I don't know." He was honest with the boy, never one to spare words with children just because they were children. He paused, thinking back to when he had first run into the two children. It hadn't been that incredibly long at all. Her condition had worsened very quickly. He stared at the girl for a few more moments and then turned to the child, letting his djed flow back out of his veins. He didn't really have time for tricks at this point. "It is related to the Silence. To the two that were following you. Did they do something to her? Anything at all. Why are you running from them? Explain fully, please. Leave nothing out. It is important. She is dying. If blood is showing in her saliva, then that means something is bleeding on the inside." He glanced back at the girl, gently grabbing her lips to open her mouth a bit, checking around for any signs of the blood source on the immediate inside. He was hoping to validate his theory that it was internal bleeding. Hopefully the boy would hurry with his explanation. "Also, do you use magic? Do you know what magic is? If so, what sort of magic? I don't have any of my medical equipment on me, so we are going to have to combine our resources to help your sister. I had a sister once." He offered the tidbit as a method of bonding. He didn't want to bond. But he had learned that children seemed to latch onto little unimportant details like this. Perhaps this one was the same.