Sigil: T.C.o.D - [Walk-In][Modern Fantasy: Cycle 32][O/A]

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Red the Ambivalent

Tres Ecstuffuan

Lord Haelstrom

New life.....⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘

╔══════════════════════════════════════╗

яє∂

╚══════════════════════════════════════╝

Currently:"Between a rock and a hard place"
In the Company of: "Tres, Omi, Rhonda, Cel'Che"

Well, that was what she had been hoping wouldn't come up.

Of course she was nervous and felt like dying, there had been absolutely no time for her to get over such an incident before being in a cramped space with the assailant. Red felt more equipped now, being as Iris had mended her back and also did some pretty neat healing of her nerves and connected the link to her abilities again, but the physical capability didn't outweigh the mental handicap. Tres had noticed her fidgeting, trying to pay attention to their conversation and also what Omi was doing. He was rather perceptive, she was trying to make it seem there were other things making her nervous, but that failed, sadly. She could feel her heart pounding madly in her chest as she stared with a blank expression at Tres.

"You could say that."

Was all she said, figuring if anything Omi would chime in eventually. But God did she hope he didn't. One thing that just wouldn't leave her mind was that if she were to make an alliance with Tres, she would have to make her appearances short and sweet to make any interactions with Omi brief or nonexistent.

This is a load of crap.

⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙New beginning.....

The Ladies Ward

______His gaze shifted between her and Omi. The snake charmer didn't seem to have any response. Knowing Omi, he could only imagine that whatever history these two had, must not have been pleasant. Tres had lost an eye to the charmer and was forced to acknowledge the fact that he made a better ally than enemy. He thought that perhaps they could get some privacy.

______Tres extended his crystalline left hand, offering it for Red to touch. Psychic's were capable of interfacing on a much deeper and intimate level. Red had done this once with Bravot so perhaps she would know the purpose of the touch.

Lord Haelstrom

Destructive Forces

[Tindome]

The Market Ward – Shin's Nonsexual Nondungeon

Nadine emerged from her shower shivering pleasantly, free of blood and the acrid scent of sweat soaked in fear. Being the sort of person who hardly had to deal with sweat outside of the context of a bedroom, she had a particular disdain for fear sweat. It had a reek to it, made her smell no longer herself.

Having a large nose was not actually in any way indicative of a superior sense of smell, but Nadine did in fact possess both of those features. For all that she had been ******** with Tous when she'd asked his favorite smell, she had a strong sense memory, a strong association with smells. Her memory was generally awful, everything a blur of faces and bodies and backdrops, but sometimes a particular scent would catch her and send her back to a place and time so vividly it astonished her. Sometimes she wondered if that was the real reason she smoked, to cover everything in tobacco and flame so that those memories, too, could become vague.

Now she smelled only of cold water and cheap soap, which she was pretty sure was supposed to smell like 'clean linen', but which actually smelled like nothing of the sort.

Wrapping a towel around herself, and considering the irony if she managed to slip and crack her head after all that, she dug around until she found herself some mouthwash. There might have been a spare toothbrush, but she never trusted those if they weren't still wrapped in plastic. Her lack of vomit-breath would probably go unappreciated, but it was always good to be prepared. Her side still throbbed, still felt like she was ripping it apart every time she turned or stretched the wrong way, but: probably fine. Her glasses were retrieved from beside the sink, slipped onto her face as she tried to get her curls to fall properly. So far her sidecut was proving to be more work than just letting her hair grow wild.

Wandering back to the bedroom, she threw on the large black shirt, slipping her arms out through the neck and tying the arms behind her back. Which would probably ruin it, having never been meant to be worn as a strapless dress, but maybe that would teach him an important lesson about ever giving Nadine anything.

"You seem really into the idea of getting meat in my mouth," she said as she emerged back into the living room. "Which, you know, would be fine, except you seem to be into it literally and that makes it weird." She reached for the bottle of whiskey, having every intention of swigging straight from it and the hell with glasses.

what the hell happened to my cigarette

Mr Shinjiko

[Red the Ambivalent]

Tres Ecstuffuan

Destructive Forces

Lord Haelstrom

New life.....⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘

╔══════════════════════════════════════╗

яє∂

╚══════════════════════════════════════╝

Currently:"Entering the Dreamscape"
In the Company of: "Tres"

The silence was maddening, the look Tres was giving the two made her believe that he had a feeling the history between the two of them was as bad as she knew. As he offered his hand, Red glanced down at it, pondering a moment what it was he was doing. Memories of the few times her and Bravot had shared the dreamscape to privately talk came to mind, and she realized he wanted to her open up that plane so they could speak without prying ears to overhear.

________________

[Dreamscape Ogre St.]

A smile coiled the corners of her lips slightly, a smile mixed between sorrow and yet comfort. Tres was a good friend, and she was glad she had the chance to talk to him. Her hand reached out, gently touching the top of his hand to form a strong link between the two Psions. As soon as they touched, both of their minds would swirl and fade into black, before an image would materialize around the dark landscape. They were in Ogre Street. A place scum bags, murderers, slave trades, everything of the like was held. Tres wouldn't know the significance of this scene, but the grim look on Red's face as they both appeared, standing in an ally, would tell the tale without words.

The alley was deserted, there were no people around, and actually the whole dreamscape was lifeless. She preferred it this way, even though she knew materialized people wouldn't be a bother. The blonde turned to her friend, waiting for him to say something. If he really wanted to know, she would explain, but that was up to his curiosity.

________________________

[Reality]

Red's hands retracted from the crystaline hand, falling back into her lap as they now rode in silence in the SUV. Her attention thankfully diverted from the occupants, and into the dreamscape with Tres.

⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙New beginning.....

[The Charred Satyr]

arrow The Market Ward

She was yelling at him again, "--can't wait anymore!" Felix knew she didn't mean it to be hurtful, but that didn't mean the wound cut any less deep. Mirage had little insight into the relationship between him and Doc. They had been travelling for a few weeks now, and in that time Felix had allowed his feelings to subtly, and intentionally drift away from his full command. Mirage was quick becoming his one reason for existence. Even this sojourn, the one that they had endeavored upon for Felix himself had become a secondary occupation. Felix could not remember a time when he had been so self-centered. Of course, Doc recognized from the moment that they met this young woman, that his equally young protege would begin allowing the girl rub off on him more and more. Doc had been, no, always was distant from everyone else besides Felix, and even then there was a deep somberness. Felix never asked what caused the man to retract from everyone else so sharply, but he knew that there had been a time where Doc had been happy. Or at least happier... Still, to Felix the sage was a father figure, practically was his father even. He counted up the seasons not too long ago, Doc had entered into his life eight annuals gone and they had celebrated his birth during the last passing of the dual moons. Time was nearing the point where he had been with this ancient longer than he had been with his own parents. The thought made Felix all at once sad, he always got melancholy when he thought of them.

Doc warned me about letting my emotions scatter. Mirage was a beautiful woman, though perhaps not of the buxom kind. She was raw and untamed. The Amm was as home in the forests of Aetheria as he was, and the mystery of who she was and where she came from only added to the allure. How could anyone possibly resist falling to pieces around her? The old man could. Doc didn't even try keep quiet the fact that he viewed her with nothing more than mild disdain and utter suspicion. She had tried bridging the gap and make amends for some ephemeral slight but it only made matters worse. Eventually Martine had been able to barter a treaty between the two parties. Although it came with the stipulation that he allowed Felix's mentor to borrow his helmet. Martine mentioned that his barbute was enchanted almost immediately after their bizarre introduction to one another. There was nothing to indicate that this was the truth, but Martine was not one to lie and Doc would not tell Felix what he found. At times he considered asking Martine if he could borrow the helmet and see for himself, he had yet to work up the nerve.

Few would have the gall to tease the sturdy warrior over the matter, but Felix did. It was in these moments that Felix had the most courage, though he wished he could steel his stomach in all situations. Even during thefts, the one thing that Felix truly excelled at, he could not help but feel the heavy shackles of fear weighing him down. With Martine specifically he had taken to spinning the helm around man's head when the Alraun let his guard down. Only to then mockingly intone the words Martine told him were written along the guard, "With thy eye, all illusion cast aside!" Martine found this quite humorous the first time, and considerably less the next eight times Felix had performed the trick. Though Felix believed that Martine's distaste started around the third performance, when the Alraun realized Felix had been making fun of his cyclopean nature. A man with one eye can be frightful to behold, but to see real terror - try to introduce a joke about his visual deficiencies. If it wasn't for Martine's good nature, Felix was certain that the refugee would have killed him in his sleep. However Martine was no craven, it was more likely that the Alraun would have cut him down there and then if he truly meant to.

Mirage continued on in her attempt to get Felix to stay with them and continue their journey north. If it wasn't so early in the day he was sure that Dolus, their other companion, would have used all six of his great arms to bind him, forcing him to listen to Mirage. Felix was caught in a standoff with himself. He needed to go with the group and hope that Doc caught up with them along the way, but at the same time he couldn't abandon the only family he had left. They had found temporary respite in this ruin of a hovel, but it would not be long before the Nocturne found their sanctuary and tried to kill them all once again. Doc had led an army of them away the night before, and in only so many turns the night would come again. By that time they'd have to be well away from this place. To stay here was to die. To go back was to die. To keep trudging ahead was their only only option. And yet that didn't stop Felix from grabbing his affects and making preparations to leave. As he touched the door, Felix felt her hand upon his arm. He froze up as stiff as a statue and could go no further.

"Felix I'm begging you," she whispered, the sound was nearly a hiss.
Felix set his jaw and bit out a reply, "You don't understand..."
"We need you."
"We need him more."

Her hand slipped from his arm and he pushed the door open. The brightness of day consumed him, Mirage screamed and the door slammed shut with a strength that she did not possess. Felix's eyes stung until the light around him dimmed, and when it finally did he saw why she had screamed.

Nothing made sense, everything around him was a nightmare. These were the fever dreams that had afflicted him so often. For a time he stood unmoving, merely observing. He even forgot to breathe. The sheer noise was enough to consume any one man in a undulating wave of shouting and crying and screaming. The people though were another matter. Without even needing to guess, he knew that this was a city but the dreams he had known were always without people. He had seen titanic buildings and indescribable structures so many times by now that it had become banal. Seeing citizenry all at once fill out these things scared him, moreover it terrified him. The cities he had been to, really been to in his short life were crowded and miserable but this was something else. He wavered in the dream, until a man struck him hard against the chest and shouted a curse. It was only when Felix met the man's irate gaze, he realized that this wasn't a dream. The blow had been enough to dislodge him, but the realization knocked him to the ground. Felix felt dizzy and winded. Panic overwhelmed him and he began to feel himself shake uncontrollably. He needed to come back to the breath but found that he could not. Mercifully the crowd parted a small gap around him but otherwise paid him no mind.

It felt like forever before shadow fell upon Felix and a tough voice spoke: "Lost, friend?"

He looked up to find a tooth filled pink face smiling down at him. Felix didn't know what to make of this discovery. He liked little and less of these... things after having been struck by one through his own hesitation. The features were similar to Martine's in a way but softer and warmer. Where Martine looked like a clay figurine molded by child's hands, this being resembled windblown stone. It was more organic, natural even but still altogether bizarre. Felix reached up and felt a calloused grip tie itself around his hand, hoisting him to his feet. "I... yes, I suppose I am lost," he replied to this new acquaintance.

"Let me help you then." The man, he supposed, wrapped his arm around Felix and began to lead him through the bustle.

[Lian Feaorne]

arrow The Arrival of Yai

Sigil was a dump that took a dump and had dump babies who dumped all over the place. That was what Yai concluded from watching the news and seeing the state of the majority of the either burnt out, half destroyed or completely leveled buildings around the city. It was...unpleasant. The last time he had been here, someone had shot him in the leg and even though he healed fast, he was still sore about it. Nothing ruined your day like a shot out knee cap. Introducing himself to the Sigil air, the tall dark haired man with slight elvish features. Yai Hakasuko Feaorne. Formerly third in line of the throne, now second in Fal'lain had been invited to Sigil to participate in his mother's company matters as well as play dancing monkey for people who would soon become his fans in this plane.

The question is, where would he perform? He highly doubted with the state of things, performing inside somewhere wouldn't be an issue. Behind him, his band mates from The Black Crows followed behind them with their acoustic practice instruments in tow. "Boys...Welcome to Sigil."He said, gesturing once all of them had stepped out of the portal and into the streets. Already, they could hear the sounds of chaos which was either an explosion somewhere or the dead silence. Right now, it was dead silence in the Portal plaza other than a few people waiting around to leave the city. Yai clicked his teeth a little, looking to the other band members. "We're walking from here."He sighed.

"Aw what! What if we get...you know..."Clancy, the drummer complained. "Eaten..."

Yai raised an eyebrow. "I could have sworn I heard the sound of a chicken somewhere...Oh wait...That's you Clancy. You're a Tengu for crying out loud...The undead can't eat you if you fly but I think it would be good inspiration for the concert. See what the money is going to go toward, you know? We've already advertised in Fal'lain we were coming here...but there's bound to be some song we can write about for it."He said, gesturing for them to start walking. The Fal'lain Corp building wasn't far but he was going to try to surprise Lian by actually showing up early for once.

Of course, there was one person on his mind. One other than his mother that was snoozing in her office while it was nice and quiet...for now. Lovi. His long legged amazonian goddess! Ah, he longed to have her company again...for he knew her heart was already taken by someone else. Someone, he intended fully to take from. As they walked, the news showed flashes of his picture briefly from past interviews as they held a news forum on the incidents in Sigil and Tres' rise to Chairman. "Hey, isn't that fella from that big tournament? What was it? The El oh El?"Maurice pointed out and Yai had to resist smacking him.

"HoH. Yes. That's Tresondros Ecstuffuan...You'll probably get to meet him later but first things first...We've got to go check in with the President and then get to work writing the main event song."Yai said getting a groan from the others. They were used to slacking off, but to him this was important. Not because of what was going on in Sigil, but he had a point to make and he would make it with his sound. The Black Crows were usually party boys but Yai intended to whip them into business men.

[Detective Bigby Wolf]

arrow Guildhall Ward, Bigby's Office

Private Investigator, Big B. Wolf

Bigby struck a match and held it before him, drawing on the Lho-stick between his lips and fingers until the flame took and the acrid narcotic filled his lungs. Sighing out a breath of poison and air, he leaned back in his seat and waited for the recreational drug to blunt his senses, willing, wishing for the white noise. Sigil was screaming outside, screaming like a pig before the slaughter. It smelled of blood and smoke, corruption and excess. Bigby pulled again and rubbed his temples, relaxing only when his sense of smell was sabotaged, and his hearing muted. Just a dull roar now, he told himself. Just a dull roar.

Pouring himself a glass of bourbon while flicking ash into a tray with well practiced motions, Bigby took his first sip and turned on the T.V, an old box mounted in the corner of his office. He knew about flat-screens, the oft spouted 'high definition' and quality of picture, but he could never justify spending his money on one. Not that he had the money to spend. Private Investigator, that's what the glass window of his door said. Two floors above a china parlor, his business if it could be called that wasn't exactly lucrative, but it did give him a measure of satisfaction.

Slouching, Bigy drank again from his tumbler and eyed the television, watching the news. Sometimes a case walked in through the door and landed in his lap - sometimes. Most of the time he had to wait for it to show up on the television. The latter never paid a stipend worth the former, but. . .

He settled the tumbler on his stomach and smoked his friend down to the filter.

[count_zantara]

Trexasle

Destructive Forces

count_zantara

Deus Ex Aizen

Iris Lunaria

Red the Ambivalent

The Bravotian Bombshell, the Sultan of Slaughter, The Librarian of Lamentation

Thomas Bravot's Personal Sanctuary

Red was out the portal, running like a female dog with her tail between her voluminous thighs.

Iris was with Raven, as he expected.

His business partner had vaporized a couch and was underestimating a Librarian.

All in all, it'd gone pretty close to plan, even when the Librarian was in a violent rage.

Unfortunately, all of the electricity running through the semi-sentient cable seemed to be doing jackshit about putting Fasumbra down as it caught his wrist instead of around the half-elves waist.

That was to be perfectly honest about it all, bloody well annoying.

But then Fas did something quite amusing and foolhardy. He flipped his captured arm up across his body. Now, in most cases this might work if Thomas Bravot wasn't wearing a jetpack or was in a larger space where the distance between the two was of a greater length. No matter how impressive jokaero's technology was in forcing very large things into very small spaces, he only had so much cable.

Lucky enough, he had more than enough for what he had in mind.

Mentally letting out six feet of slack in keeping pace with Fas as he began his arm movement, Bravot gave the semi-sentient cable a helping flick, sending a loop in the metal sliding down towards the half-elf. Once the arm passed the highest point, the Librarian dropped to a partial knee, allowing the loop to fall down right over the raging half-elfs neck, Fas' own arm movement arrested as the partially elastic segmented metal was pulled tight in two directions, cutting off his oxygen supply.

He could continue the movement and dig the metal into his own throat until it broke or he passed out.

Or he could begin to panic and reverse the movement and try to pry the coil off of his throat.

Either way, Bravot was through playing around.

Moving his right leg forward in a sweep as he pulled in the slack around Fas' throat, the Librarian brought up his other gauntlet, the bluish white flames of his 'thrower lapping at Fas' calves, setting his clothes possibly on fire followed by his skin; the arm of the Librarian aimed low to keep most of the destruction centered in one spot.

The temperature wasn't that impressive, truth be told. Normal flames, even those helped along by Bravot's unused oxygen supply had it's limits. But it was something else to be distracted by.

Flames, electricity and strangulation.

One of them was bound to have some sort of effect on the raging half-elf.

And if nothing else, Aarin might find some use for all that power in the vaguely empty room as the furniture began to burst into flames, rising up the walls, being blocked in by the shields protecting the shelves.

[Mr Shinjiko]

Tindome

"Just eat. Drink after I get you sorted, don't need you starting to bleed again."

It would be a simple process, and he didn't quite give a rats a** if she wanted him to fix her up. From the sounds of it she was worried about scaring, so going in with stitches wasn't the best option. Two things were removed from the bag, one Hydrogen Peroxide, the other cleaning alcohol. A hand towel was held just underneath the wound while the peroxide was poured over the wound. Then it was brought up and held tight, the bottle getting exchanged for alcohol wipes which were rubbed on the outside of the split flesh.

It would dry in seconds, leaving the hospital smell lingering. The next thing would be the most important. It was a small tube, smelled like super glue and was mostly the same. It's contents were pushed into the wound, left hand moving to hold the wound shut. After, a bandage was placed over, taped in place. And then he began to eat as if nothing had just happened that may possibly upset someones appetite.

While he was eating, he'd move from the table for a minute. Always busy. Cellphone in hand, he'd keep rather quiet as he asked about anyone able to gather information. A few moments passed and he sat back down to finish eating. Things would be falling into place soon, and the less that needed to be done the better.

[Lian Feaorne]

arrow Fal'lain Corp

Yai and the Black Crows had adventured their way uneventfully to the Fal'lain Corp building. The staff had been informed that they were coming and some of the fans who were originally from Fal'lain came to greet them with notepads and cameras for autographs. They were used to this. All around Fal'lain planar they were a very popular rock group and traveled around quite a bit but their stalking grounds was around the family kingdom. Mostly, because Yai had moved out of the palace after arguing with the newly crowned King Alan of Pastan, his elder sister's husband and his new stepfather's son. Which still technically made him a brother-in-law and a step-brother. Not that he cared. The two got along like oil and water. They signed autographs in the lobby but there was no sign of Lian anywhere.

"Where's the president?"Yai asked one of the staff members who frequented the top floor.

"Oh! She's up in her office."The nervous secretary spoke up.

"Good. We'll be going along now. Peace."Yai said, raising his hand up and making the 'peace sign' gesture before going to the elevators. The Black Crows had a tradition when they visited Lian...one that was probably going to make the matron angry in her sleepless state but it was worth it.

So, so worth it.

Yai and the Crows removed their instruments from their cases as they got up to the top floor, whispering excitedly. Yai peeked into the office, seeing Lian asleep at her desk again. She had decided the best way to multitask was to sleep where she worked at this point. With the exhaustion, she might as well have been dead to the world for a few hours. The band creeped in, setting up and Yai did the count down on his fingers. All of them inhaled and started to play as loud as they could with Yai singing lead in the snarliest metal voice he could muster..

"ROCKABYE BABY ON THE TREE TOP, WHEN THE WIND BLOWS THE CRADLE WILL RROOOOOOOCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!"He growled.

Lian woke up with a scream, jumping in her chair and falling back only to miss it, sending her and her chair flying backwards behind her desk with her legs dangling in the air. Yai ran over while the band played, jumping up on her desk and continuing. "AND WHEN THE BOW BREAKS AND CRADLE WILL FALL!"He bellowed.

[********! Oh my gods stop!"Lian shouted from her helpless position on the floor.

"AND DOWN WILL COME BABY, CRADLE AND ALLLLLLLLLLL"Yai finished up, panting and looking down with the biggest grin as Lian covered her ears and the music stopped playing. Yai could tell she was exhausted but he always like to see if he could give her a few gray hairs and wrinkles. He laughed but Lian was not happy at all and would probably commit infanticide if it weren't for the fact that he was a grown man.

"Yai Hadasuko..."Lian growled.

"Allo' Mummy~"Yai waved from his squatted position on her desk as he looked down at her.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow!"Lian sighed, rolling from her position and getting up to her feet. She rubbed the back of her head where she had bumped it on the floor.

"It is tomorrow. Technically in Fal'lain it is tomorrow but we wanted to some surprise you by showing up early. Besides, the earlier we get settled the more fun we can have."Yai chuckled deeply.

"Well...Thanks for coming. You and the boys can set yourselves up in the apartment up here. Hello Maurice, Clancy, Spruce."Lian said as she waved to the The Black Crow band members who had finished laughing and cleaned up their instruments. "Get yourselves tucked in...I guess I won't be sleeping again, not with you four in my office."

"Aww, Mrs. Feaorne, you can come nest up with us."Spruce said, making a bit of a kissy face at her but Lian rolled her eyes. "You know we don't mind."

"Like hell. Go settle in. There's food in the fridge and more in the cafeteria downstairs..."Lian yawned and Yai pulled her over for a quick hug.

"Go to the infirmary and get some sleep. There should be an open bed somewhere right?"Yai whispered out of ear shot of the band. Lian raised an eyebrow but nodded. "You look like you don't feel well...I've got the boys, you go sleep."

"Can't hide much from you can I? Fine. Just keep them out of trouble."Lian said, patting Yai's back and letting out a long yawn. Maybe it was time for a check up anyway? The stressful environment must have been doing more of a number on her if even Yai was worried. Lian watched as the Crows headed into the side room that was a small apartment meant for long work nights. For now, it was a VIP suite. Lian crept out of the office and headed down several floors using the elevator to the infirmary floor.

[Detective Bigby Wolf]

Those who said the life of a private investigator was a thrilling one were either ignorant or overtly romantic.

Bigby slept with the lights on.

[Concobhar Conghaile]

Detective Bigby Wolf

It's a shame that Bigby was sleeping, because he was soon to be woken up. A celtic bred man would knock three times on the door, at about the way a police officer would. This man was far from an officer of the law though. Stubbled face, cigarette hanging from his mouth, eyes covered by sunglasses even at night, and the smell of whiskey.

Though there was some respect, not opening the door of someone he didn't know was one of them. That was, unless certain things called for it. The man stood at roughly five feet ten inches, so he was quite the average lad. If Bigby opened the door, he'd see the man standing there in black fatigues and a black coat.

[Detective Bigby Wolf]

There were also people who said evil never slept, and justice was ever vigilant. As far as Bigby was concerned, the world would be a better place if people just kept their mouth's shut. Bleary eyed, the private investigator knuckled his eyes before pushing against the tops of his knees, grunting with the effort of standing.

"Hold on," he growled, stepping around a coffee table and smoothing his rumpled shirt. At the door he fixed his tie and passed a hand through his hair, giving him some semblance of order and professional air before he unlocked the door and took a gander.

Bigby was not particularly tall, but he didn't necessarily have to look up at the man. A slight cant of the head and a raise of the brow sufficed. "Yeah?" he asked without preamble. "Can I help you?"

[Concobhar Conghaile]

Detective Bigby Wolf

"Aye, I s'pose ye' can. Ye'see, I'm lookin' for some people. I heard from a v'ry reputable source that ye' were the man to find things out."

The voice was Irish like in it's tone, framing the man as Celtic in heritage. He was standing outside the office though, so details of what he wanted were kept at bay. Hands shifted into the pockets of his coat, eyes watching the detective that stood before him. A keen eye knew that the man had been sleeping, but he'd leave it as just knowledge.

"So mate, ye' want t' make some money?"

[Detective Bigby Wolf]

Concobhar Conghaile

A deep rumble of contemplation emanated from deep within Bigby's chest; the kind of growl that started in the back of the throat and ended up in someone else's. Sniffing, the detective opened the door to his office and gestured for the man to come inside with a near imperceptible tilt of his head. "Name's Bigby," he said over his shoulder as he passed an old, beaten claymore leaning against a chair, running a light hand across the nicked surface, "we'll see if I'm your man. Take a seat."

Helping himself to the one behind his desk, Bigby grabbed his matches and pack of Lho-sticks and went about the task of lighting up. Between puckering, gritting his teeth, lighting and pulling, he talked. "First I'll have your name, stranger. I don't take a case with mysteries on both sides."

[Tindome]

The Market Ward – Shin's Nonsexual Nondungeon

Her fingertips only barely grazed the bottle before she was unpleasantly rebuffed. "Whoa, wait, what? No, I'm fine now, it's fine, we don't need to be like pokin' at it or anything, we can just let it, you know–"

Nadine's totally reasonable protestations were ignored, and as her shirt-dress was hitched up to reveal her utterly ruined tattoo (and also incidentally still unpleasant-looking wound), she let her knees buckle and flopped backward onto the couch in the most traditional and passive-aggressive form of protest.

"Okay, so, this is a thing that's happening I guess. That's… that's great." She tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, crossing her arms like a petulant child, a stubborn jut to her jaw. And as he tended to the wound, her back arched and her teeth clenched, though she stopped short of kicking her feet in the air. "This is worse than the actual stabbing," she hissed between her teeth, nostrils flared in a manner all the more impressive for the size of them. "Is this really–"

At which point a thought struck her, one which distracted her almost entirely successfully.

"Oh, ********! s**t! ********!" Her hands went to the sides of her head in sudden epiphany, and from that point on left only occasionally to gesticulate wildly in the air. "He stabbed that chick! Right? That other chick, he totally stabbed her! ********! He stabbed her and then me and oh my ******** it's like I raw-dogged it with every person he ever stabbed, [********]."

It was unclear whether her wild cursing was more related to this realization, or the pain associated with his attention to her side.

As he finished, she slouched down into the couch, tugged her dress down with a melodramatic sigh of disgust. "I'm gonna go to the clinic and they're gonna tell me I have ebola. I may as well have ******** a koala. Goddammit."

Grabbing the whiskey bottle, she began pouring it sullenly down her throat.

Mr Shinjiko