Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Harry Baldman]

"I am," Immanuel Jade nods, seemingly absolutely riveted by the door for the entire length of time he's sat there, his head remaining perfectly still and level even as the rest of his body moves or twitches every now and then.

However, after a moment's thought his gaze is drawn toward Mags, and for the first time focuses on her features properly, eyes opening wider. Immanuel Jade blinks once, then again.

"Repeat your last question?" he asks slowly.

[SeriousConcentrate]

Vic drank the offered drink in silence after the sheriff laid out the situation. It sounded like a lot of trouble was about to happen; if this man wasn't found, there would be an underworld war for sure. And as the sheriff noted, a lot of innocent people would be caught up in it. Lives could be lost or ruined. With a sigh, Vic took off her hat (placing it carefully on her lap) and ran her hand through her hair. "Sounds like a lot of trouble is getting ready to come down the pike, and that you could use some help. You're tied here. I ain't. I can try to follow that note for you, but I don't have the slightest idea where to begin with it. Do you?"

[GiglameshDespair]

A fake like this... it was dancing on the graves of all she'd loved.

With a click! she wore another mask, of a man smiling gently.

"Who made my outfit? Why, I could arrange so you met him, yes. He did the finest work... he had you perform, and if you did well, he'd give you a lower price, so you'd return when you needed more clothing."she chirped disarmingly, head cocked slightly to one side. "Indeed, it wouldn't be hard for you to go meet him."

She stepped closer, and her blue eyes surged with fury in the eyeslits of her mask. "Of course, I'd have to slash your throat and burn your wretched flesh to ash for you to meet him, you vile mockery, you who peddles the grief of Orinost like a painted whore! You, who does not know of the Six Stanzas of the King, who has never played their secret song to ears of the furies alone! I would rather rip my tongue from my mouth or slice off my fingers than sing or strum a single note in accompaniment to you!" If scorn could kill, the man would have been struck dead by the force of her words.

She stepped back, and her distaste was clear even through the cupronickel mask. "I am a bard of the Royal College of Orinost. You pale imitation is a blight in the eyes of the dead. "

[Dwarmin]

"I am," Immanuel Jade nods, seemingly absolutely riveted by the door for the entire length of time he's sat there, his head remaining perfectly still and level even as the rest of his body moves or twitches every now and then.

However, after a moment's thought his gaze is drawn toward Mags, and for the first time focuses on her features properly, eyes opening wider. Immanuel Jade blinks once, then again.

"Repeat your last question?" he asks slowly.

"I asked if...you...wanted..to..play..cards." She saysg-nodding the artilleryman, making looping motions toward her head with her finger.

Vic drank the offered drink in silence after the sheriff laid out the situation. It sounded like a lot of trouble was about to happen; if this man wasn't found, there would be an underworld war for sure. And as the sheriff noted, a lot of innocent people would be caught up in it. Lives could be lost or ruined. With a sigh, Vic took off her hat (placing it carefully on her lap) and ran her hand through her hair. "Sounds like a lot of trouble is getting ready to come down the pike, and that you could use some help. You're tied here. I ain't. I can try to follow that note for you, but I don't have the slightest idea where to begin with it. Do you?"

"Well, we either puzzle out this note...or, we go after Juns posse, who might know something. The ones who attacked you. I've got some names of people, and bounties pictures of people you could recognize-but it'd not be a sure thing...tell me, do you have transportation? Fast transportation? You need to find these folks quick, before they flee all to the eight corners of the map..."

A fake like this... it was dancing on the graves of all she'd loved.

With a click! she wore another mask, of a man smiling gently.

"Who made my outfit? Why, I could arrange so you met him, yes. He did the finest work... he had you perform, and if you did well, he'd give you a lower price, so you'd return when you needed more clothing."she chirped disarmingly, head cocked slightly to one side. "Indeed, it wouldn't be hard for you to go meet him."

She stepped closer, and her blue eyes surged with fury in the eyeslits of her mask. "Of course, I'd have to slash your throat and burn your wretched flesh to ash for you to meet him, you vile mockery, you who peddles the grief of Orinost like a painted whore! You, who does not know of the Six Stanzas of the King, who has never played their secret song to ears of the furies alone! I would rather rip my tongue from my mouth or slice off my fingers than sing or strum a single note in accompaniment to you!" If scorn could kill, the man would have been struck dead by the force of her words.

She stepped back, and her distaste was clear even through the cupronickel mask. "I am a bard of the Royal College of Orinost. You pale imitation is a blight in the eyes of the dead. "

The man turns pale with great fear, and scuttles away. He drops his cheap umbrella, which rolls across the floor. Distantly, the slam of a stage door. He won't be performing tonight. A pause. The crowd has made some distance from you. Wondering what happens next. The other fake Orinost performers seem to also be sidling for the exits, catching a whiff of hostility in the air toward them.

A young man with clear blue eyes, a juggler or an acrobat by the look of him (his clothes embroidered with colorful birds, designed to catch the eye), is the first to speak up to her. He tones are guilt ridden-an old wound. Some people in the West still remember how much was lost...

"...sorry lady, I didn't think any of you were really left." He says, for all of them-perhaps as good an epitaph as you can hope for.

[Harry Baldman]

Immanuel Jade nods for a moment, then turns to the artilleryman.

"Repeat her last question?" he asks levelly, his face entirely lacking in emotion.

[SeriousConcentrate]

"I've got a horse, though I could use a way to carry a dog with it. Lucky's not young, plus he took a bullet recently and he's having trouble keeping up." Vic petted the dog sitting at her side, scratching him behind the ears. In some ways, the poor mutt was a lot like her. "That aside, do you know anyone in town who might be able to figure that note out?"

[GiglameshDespair]

She sighed, suddenly feeling weary and nodded towards the dancer.
"The fire of Orinost has gone out, but there's still warmth in the ashes, so to speak."

[Dwarmin]

Immanuel Jade nods for a moment, then turns to the artilleryman.

"Repeat her last question?" he asks levelly, his face entirely lacking in emotion.

"She asked if you want to play cards."

"I've got a horse, though I could use a way to carry a dog with it. Lucky's not young, plus he took a bullet recently and he's having trouble keeping up." Vic petted the dog sitting at her side, scratching him behind the ears. In some ways, the poor mutt was a lot like her. "That aside, do you know anyone in town who might be able to figure that note out?"

The sheriff steeples her fingers, thinking.

"...I suppose you could try the Renee's-the Garden of Drongo's. It's a place that attracts intelligent sorts-they mostly attend the small College near the Eastern edge of the city. You could also try the college directly, but they're...sort of odd ducks when they're on the job. Don't like looky-loos. Might be better to talk to them in good humor."

[GM Intervention]

Vic also seems hesitant to recall that Wen-li has a deed to an air ship. Long odds, but what if you could enlist the Bard into this endeavor? It's possible the Airship might go the way of salvage rights if there are no living claimants-finders keepers-and, the Sheriff could smooth things over for you...

She sighed, suddenly feeling weary and nodded towards the dancer.
"The fire of Orinost has gone out, but there's still warmth in the ashes, so to speak."

The crowd seems to part respectfully, the action over. The young man stays by your side, though.

"Well, it's good have one of you here...I expect we're in for a show, hmm?

My name is Han, by and by. It's an honor to meet you, lady of Orinost...I expect you were looking for a room and a meal, right? Before that fool spoke up. You look a bit trail dusted to me, anyway." He says.

[Harry Baldman]

Immanuel Jade regards the two for a good minute, perfectly still.

Thoughts: how is the artilleryman like Mags, and where do they overlap that Immanuel Jade cannot see? Thoughts? Unseen dimensions?

[GiglameshDespair]

Wen-Li switched hands for her parasol so she could offer one to shake, as was custom in Orinost.

"I certainly plan to put on a good performance. Wen-Li Dulcette, the Wind-Tossed Blossom. Please to meet you. But yes, I do believe a bath and a meal would be heavenly right now. The stagecoach was attacked and destroyed on the way, the bridge burned... it was certainly more adventorous a journey than I had expected."