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knife effect Vice Captain
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 Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2011 10:05 pm
THE FEAST BEFORE THE HARVEST
FEATURING: Pistolsys's DORIAN ARELGREN and LETTIE and Pur3 Snip3's EZEKIEL NORTH and MIKHAIL ENFIELD
SETTING: Mishkan, inside the Enfield-North Arms main shop.
TIME: Early morning
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2011 10:21 pm
Dorian Arelgren entered the shop politely, knocking first before making an appropriate entry. A wooden box was jammed underneath his armpit, its contents' sweet aroma still strong from the morning. Lettie, who refused to wait outside, accompanied him within a satchel cleverly concealed so that she had a panoramic view of her surroundings, but outsiders could not see her. Morning light threw its beams within the vicinity, revealing all around it with a ghostly, blue hue. Lettie leaned forwards when Dorian did also; he peered into the shop, imbibing its wooden foundation and minimalistic presentation--and of course--the swords jammed in barrels and guns lined upon walls. While Dorian was rather uncomfortable with the arms, Lettie was altogether opposite. She was pleased with the arrangement of weaponry around her, her dotted mouth smiling at the polished wood and furnished metal. The shop appeared empty, but that was only to be expected, for they arrived much earlier than the Arelgren predicted, and he silently prayed that the shopkeepers would not find him distasteful due to this (additionally, because of his letter).
He'd never been in an arms shop before. He felt rather intimidated, surrounded by instruments of death from all sides--trapped--cornered--waiting--customer. At least, he was not a dilatory customer. Though it was small thought, it was enough to comfort his distaste in his presentation.
With the box of chocolates in hand, he cautiously called out, "Salutations! I am Dorian Arelgren, here to collect my thirty shots."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 2:56 pm
Mikhail Enfield drowsily answered to the call outside: "Com'n in a bit--"
He didn't expect such an early customer, though he was rather curious about the man who called himself Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons. He picked up the letter Ezekiel gave him the week before, and re-read its contents with a chuckle.
To: Mr.North and Mr. Enfield, I am Dorian Arelgren of the ribbons! I am on a quest for revenge and the satisfaction of my curiosity, for bandits raided my home and left me a coat in my repose! I feel like a lady! I do not want to be raided any longer by horrible bandits of foolishness. I considered poisoning their cocoa, but I remembered that I do not know who they are. Therefore, I require tools, your tools, to be precise, Mr. Enfield and Mr. North! Thirty shots, no more, no less. I will provide the payment upfront in your arms shop, because I am a gentleman. I hope you will look forward to expecting me and I will bring chocolate. I have the best chocolate in the same way that you have the best guns. I am not going to kill anyone with the gun though, so it is okay. Goodbye.
Dorian Arelgren
He'd done business before with Lucien Arelgren, and he assumed that Dorian Arelgren was a relative to the prim man who shared his surname. When Lucien first made a purchase, Enfield-North Arms was not yet Enfield-North Arms, and still Enfield Arms. He remembered the way Lucien carried himself, his wife always hooked around his arm. Ezekiel would not have liked them much, for they were rather capricious in their purchase, and indecision was a customer quality that Ezekiel loathed more than anything.
Ezekiel trotted obediently to the shop's front, quick in his footwork.
Enfield smiled wearily. The boy had already been awake judging from his excitement. He'd never seen Ezekiel laugh before, and the sound was pleasant and innocent to his ears.
This Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons was a funny one, enough to amuse the stoic North boy.
Ezekiel stared at Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons, his mouth agape.
He was. So. Fancy. And so familiar
Nevermind his appearance, he smelled sweet, like chocolate.
Enfield coughed from within the hall, reminding Ezekiel of his duty.
"You must be Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons," Ezekiel sputtered. He tried to conceal his disappointment, though. Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons only had one ribbon on him.
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 3:09 pm
Dorian Arelgren recognized the eyepatched boy instantly, and for some reason, the atmosphere felt jarring.
"Yes, we've met before," Dorian said slowly, jade eyes scanning the smith. Ah. He must be the young Mr.North. He remembered the eyepatched boy well, his savior, a merchant in the night. He shivered at the thought of the fallen mage and his dispatch. The North boy had exhibited no emotion of remorse upon scrutinizing the corpse, his empathy relevantly absent. However, Dorian only noticed his boyishness upon morning light, the boy's features soft, innocent.
Horrifying how he's capable of a frightening shot.
Lettie nudged him, and Dorian abruptly presented the chocolates he'd made before he took his leave. Though their smell was sweet, dolefulness kept him from enjoying the aroma, for he just only remembered that the remnants of his ingredients were finished.
"As promised," Lettie chimed, a little too loudly, and she tumbled from where she hid--landing on the North's left foot. She cleaned herself a bit, dusting her dress off as habitually as she did. She gazed at the taller giant for a bit, before considering how to carry on. She was rather confident in herself. Dorian, however, was not.What was Lettie thinking? It should have been obvious to him, that she was intentionally revealing herself, though to why he was unsure. Lettie knew full well of the dangers of revealing herself, even the House of Obscuvos warned the Obscuvians of such acts. Plagues were hunted like game in Panymium, now that their existence had been made known. He was afraid for her, though he didn't understand why she was suddenly so intent on making herself prominent, before a weaponsmith, no less!
Lettie pleasantly ignored him.
"And our thirty shots?" Lettie questioned, her finger poised upwards in the smith's direction. She waited for an answer, sweetness in her voice.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 3:21 pm
The small voice by his foot surprised him!
Ezekiel's eyes traveled from the box of chocolates (which he didn't take) to his foot. There was a white-and-brown-thing by his foot, and it was talking to him. It wanted thirty shots. He was vexed, yet satisfied to an extent. This white-and-brown-thing was covered head-to-toe in ribbons, and was delightful to look at! He'd never seen one before though, but he didn't quite know how to ask it what exactly it was. It was all very frustrating in the North's head. It was weird, but it was pretty to look at. Like his mother.
"And our thirty shots?" it had asked, and Ezekiel replied to it without hesitation. He did not want to make himself appear indecisive before a white-and-brown thing, nor customers in general.
"Right here," Ezekiel answered, revealing a heavy sack from behind the counter. Joss's portrait tipped over when his arm banged into it in the process; it wasn't enough to bruise him. He trotted back to the two.
He got on his hands and knees after setting the sack on the floor, his good, opal eye scrutinizing the brown-and-white thing. It was dressed like a girl.
"What are you?" Ezekiel asked forwardly. Enfield appeared from the hall as well, though he didn't appear surprised at the sight of the brown-and-white-thing.
"A Plague, boy." Enfield answered absently.
Amused, he smiled at Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons. "Your girl writes charming letters. Perhaps she should continue them for you in the future."
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 3:31 pm
Dorian bit his lip in disbelief. How could a mere smith know about Plagues? Suddenly, his mind raced. He assumed the older man was Mr. Enfield, though he was afraid of what Mr. Enfield was entailed to do--was he going to harm Lettie? Hurt her? Harm him? Dorian Arelgren? Paranoia swept over him like a relentless tide, washing gradual horror over him. He wanted to strangle Lettie a bit, strangle sense into her, at the least. She didn't seem to realize that he was worried for her, but her spirits resisted him. It was as if Lettie could not be conquered. She was admirable, really, but strange to him suddenly.
"Lettie, come back at once!" Dorian made a grab for her, though she escaped from him and climbed nimbly onto Ezekiel North's shoulder. She was rather annoyed with her Grimm now, his incompetence especially. "I'm-I'm sorry, but you aren't going to hurt her now, are you? Are you a Grimm as well? How do you know of Plagues?"
Dorian Arelgren was not trusting. He placed the chocolate on the counter's top; his eyes did not waver. He'd seen too much that the Obscuvians were capable of, Mages that wanted him dead--scientists were perhaps even more of a mystery--but ultimately--all those that knew of Plagues and Grimms...
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 3:43 pm
Enfield shook his head, and Ezekiel remained quiet in intrigue.
"Nay, I know of them only through rumors and myth. I hear Plagues bring adventure to their Grimms, simple joys and simple woes, heheh." Enfield laughed, amused at the idea of himself being the owner of one. He clasped his apprentice's shoulder, eyeing the sweet Plague that shared it. "Donche worry, son. Old Enfield won't hurt'er. She's yours after all, I'm sure your adventure hurts more than I ever could."
He let his words settle.
"And what would your name be, Missy?" Enfield inquried. He opened the wooden lid of the box on the counter, and popped a chocolate ball in his mouth. Ezekiel wasn't as interested in it, though. He liked the Plague more than the chocolate. "Ach, nevermind that, you can tell North here, I'll be retiring if you all excuse me."
Ezekiel, too, was interested in her name, but more so her origin. While weapons had origins, he wondered where Plagues took origin. In a shop? Like Enfield-North Arms? Was there a Plague shop? He thought the idea was very sensible. A shop where Plagues could be bought. All his life, his parents were complaining about the Plague and how they couldn't cure it. Now, he was in contact with one, but it didn't seem as scary as his mother and father said. She was kind of like Vindicator.
"Where do you come from?" Ezekiel added.
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 4:04 pm
The Arelgren wasn't quite sure how he felt about Enfield, but he preferred the North boy right now, mostly because the latter was rather taciturn, yet observant. He nodded at Enfield's answer, convinced that the man meant no harm to him. Enfield's retreating back jogged his memory a bit, and Dorian linked the two and two together. He reminded him of Wickwright slightly, someone who knew much but exercised enough brevity. The thought of Wickwright led to the thought of Hopkin. He hoped the Finch Plague was safe as well on Wickwright's "adventure" (as Enfield coined it). Nonetheless, Dorian couldn't bear to let Lettie speak any further, and spoke for her. Pleasantly enough, Lettie didn't mind (this time, at least).
"Er, her name is Lettie, and she originated from a plagued cup of cocoa," Dorian explained. He tried to remain minimalistic in his word choice, afraid that revealing too much could be hazardous.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 4:22 pm
Ezekiel watched Lettie, the "plagued cup of cocoa". He still did not understand. Lettie did not look like a plagued cup of cocoa, and she smelled nice. Plagues were supposed to smell bad, like his mother when she didn't wash well and "smell of s**t". He gazed at Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons, incomprehensibly. He also wondered when Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons was going to pay for his thirty shots.
"But she does not look like one." Ezekiel said flatly. "But she does not look like one, see, she has arms and legs and she can speak. You speak nonsense, Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons."
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 4:48 pm
Lettie emitted a bell-like laugh.
"Mr. North, what Mr. Arelgren means to say is that I used to not look like I do now," Lettie explained, patting the smith's cheek. "I used to reek; I also used to look like a mug of hot cocoa!" Lettie explained cheerily, clapping her hands. Mr. North was very thoughtful, much like Hopkin. She decided she liked him very much, more than Mr.Charming because Mr. North reminded her strictly of Hopkin.
"Er, aye, thank you, Lettie," Dorian awkwardly added. He wasn't as eloquent as he remembered, and he suddenly pined for the company of Wickwright and Dragomir (who kindly explained themselves for him). He was certain that Ezekiel North found the Arelgren to be hilarious to some extent, for the boy's opal eye danced in its socket at the sight of him. Then again, the boy was he's capable of a frightening shot.
The satchel in Dorian's hand reminded him that he had not yet paid the North boy. His memory was as ephemeral as his will these days.
"Oh," Dorian added, "I'll be leaving the shillings on the counter."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 5:20 pm
Ezekiel was quick to pick his wording, disregarding Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons' payment (which Enfield would be highly disapproving to Ezekiel of, ignoring a customer). He repeated Lettie's words in his head, and instantly, his thought process wildly reached a conclusion.
"I used to not look like I do now...I used to reek; I also used to look like a mug of hot cocoa!"
But of course!
"Please...wait here." Ezekiel said excitedly, setting Lettie down on the floor before rushing into his room; the wooden interior of the shop suddenly becoming a massive brown blur as he raced to his sleeping quarters. He reached underneath his bed and produced Vindicator, stinking as always, and speckled with Plague-marks, black and obvious in their color. His mind formulated:
I used to not look like I do now...I used to reek; I also used to look like a ______!
would transcribe to:
I used to not look like I do now...I used to reek; I also used to look like a arquebus!
But of course! Vindicator could not be fixed. It all made sense to him now, like how designs and concepts were easily solved when the obvious was present. Vindicator was a plagued item, surely Enfield knew something of it, rather, he was aware of it--and wanted Ezekiel to be rid of it. Enfield did not know Ezekiel as well as he thought he did. Ezekiel would not want to rid himself of Vindicator now, not when he knew what Vindicator could become. He didn't question the process of how Lettie came to be from the cup of hot cocoa, something in her tone told him that she didn't know any more than she explained.
He returned with Vindicator, and showed him to the duo.
"This is Vindicator. He is a plagued item?"
If the answer was positive, then Enfield's resistance was explained.
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 5:36 pm
The smell itself was undeniable, the black specks tainting the arquebus's wood answered the boy's question enough. Dorian gave a small gasp at the sight of another Putesco, remembering when Felicity first evoked to him knowledge that he owned one. It was as if the torch had been passed. He dared not touch it.
"That is most definitely a Putesco: a plagued item," Dorian crisply answered, gathering Lettie in her satchel before fastening it to his belt. The boy was so young, and he wondered if the latter was prepared for the "adventure" that would befall him once the weapon took an Excito form. The boy would need advice.
"Be careful, all of Panymium is on the hunt for Plagues. Do not speak to Obscuvians, it's best not to let anyone know of your Plague," Dorian said hurriedly. He gestured to Lettie. "I am fortunate that you and Mr.Enfield are kind enough to keep my secret safe, or I assume, you will."
"Oh Dorian, there is no need to scare Mr.North," Lettie pouted, glaring at her Grimm disapprovingly.
"He needs to know, Lettie!" Dorian snapped. "He needs to be prepared. I was not."
At this, Lettie was silent.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 5:55 pm
Ezekiel nodded at Dorian's advice, and it made sense to him, for Enfield seemed to approve of it in his encouragement to dispose of Vindicator. However, Ezekiel simply didn't trust the outside world enough with Vindicator--not only was he a prototype, but he belonged to Ezekiel. No matter how much Enfield pressed or knew, Ezekiel was deadpanned and adamant in keeping his Swanson prototype close. In a sense, it was pride of ownership.
"He is Vindicator, he is mine," Ezekiel promised, reassuring Dorian. "Now that your purchase has been made, Enfield says I have to run an errand in Shyregoed. I will bring Vindicator with me. If we meet again, I will most likely have questions for you, Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons, and Lettie."
He left the Arelgren standing in the shop front before he took his leave. He was rather excited with the idea of Vindicator developing an ego, smelling not as bad. Though he knew that his Putesco would no longer resemble a Swanson, at least, it would be in origin. The story continued, and Ezekiel North laughed.
Dorian Arelgren of the Ribbons indeed!
END
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