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 Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 9:57 am
Doppelgangers
Where
Colwe, in Shyregoed, at the heart of the city amongst the vendors.
Who
Beatrix Amaranthe, accompanied by Cassandra (in a matchbox) & Sloane
(played by fairie lore & ex o ex Snoof)
When
Around three o'clock on a sunny, but chilly day.
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Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 10:37 am
Beatrix had done her best with the resources she had.
It was more difficult then one might initially imagine to conjure up another tantalizing flavor, one that would sell well and keep the business afloat. The spike in business the shop had when the plague was new and the grief overpowering was now gone, people now looking to keep themselves out of bankruptcy and their own businesses going, what with workers dropping like flies. Of course, she couldn't say that she was in trouble - the class that she catered to never had a lack of wealth.
However, she was looking to do a little more then cure a sweet tooth for an afternoon. Her entrance to the Council of Sciences had propelled her to do more. It wasn't just enough to wait around for them to integrate her into their little society. Beatrix could do valuable work on her own, in a field that she was skilled in.
Everything came back to candy.
Candy could be made with a variety of ingredients, some even herbal. With her knowledge of both the discipline of medicine - oh, how she'd shadowed her father as a child and that of candy making, couldn't she create something that could alleviate sickness? Something that tasted good, to boot?
Or so here she was, having traversed the barren lands to make it to Colwe, the hub of Mages. And so here more then ever did she expect to find the ingredients she needed to cure.
Beatrix traversed through the vendors, never quite settling at a single one, circling around the market. It wasn't enough just to jump at the vendor and buy. She needed expertise, after all. She would keeping the shopkeeper what combinations were useful, as this produce was relatively unknown to her. Still, she remembered some from the many travelers who had passed her by in Mishkan as a child.
So for now, a little bit of reconnaissance was needed for that. Of course, her elegant and proper attire ensured that her presence wasn't entirely unknown. Even while going abroad she ensure she looked like a proper lady.
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Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 5:06 pm
A sniffle.
A cough.
These symptoms typically passed Sloane bye with no regard, but this city, this epicenter of the barren waste that was Shyregoed, was beginning to smell of more rot and decay than the streets and alleyways of Helios, and hardly any of the inhabitants seemed aware of it. Colwe in particular was an odd place to the sword Plague. In the midst of heavy and freezing winds and frequent blizzards, it stood tall with a beautiful queen giving hope to the masses, encouraging them to venerate their God and that through their religious prayers and hymns they would find peace from the Death.
The only way to be safe from Death was to be immortal.
Hiding his normal attire to lessen suspicious glances, Sloane instead donned various leathers, some fur lined, and a hooded cloak -- what better to hide those tainted eyes of his than the shadows, where he could appear to be but a humble traveler passing through in need of supplies instead of the personal knight to a political figure now under attack as he truly was. There was no sign of his armor, only a silver neckband, a crimson jewel peeking out of its center.
With each light step into the city, his eyes darted to every female in the vicinity. Too tall, too small, too wide, too thin. It was a travesty and embarrassment for him to have to examine the passing women in such ways, even closer examination such as the width of their hips and the size of their... well. Swallowing hard, he diverted his attention every time the size was off. Another thing that was impeding his search was the plain and simple fact that none of these women were alone. How terrible would it be to have to approach a female and ask her for such an intense duty while in the presence of her man? He'd get a swift punch to the jaw, that's what would happen!
Either way, it wouldn't matter; a situation of utmost urgency or not, there was one glaring plain and simple fact: none of these women were even remotely similar to her, and his faith was beginning to dwindle. Surely, he had not traveled far, across the plains of Auvinus or the fields of Mishkan, nor even the watery ports of Imisus but surely there was someone with at least a similar body type, if not a similar face!
"Not a one..." he whispered to himself, growing disheartened.
As if on cue, as though fate had heard his heart's desperate plea, there passed a thin and curvy woman with long, raven hair. At that moment, he felt as though he could, just maybe, take an interest in that 'God' the priests were so fond of. Picking up his pace, he followed the woman, keeping his distance to observe. A smile was growing, perhaps this could be the one, this could be--
She had turned to the side. A nasty boil on her forehead, a long and crooked nose, pursed and tainted lips. No! This was not a sign from the fates and all hopeful thoughts shattered in an instant, leaving Sloane standing in the middle of the frost covered street with a look of utter stupidity across his face, horse drawn carriages passing him by while he remained none the wiser. Finally, after taking a minute to recover his sensibilities, he gripped his hood angrily, pulling it taut over his head as a gust of wind rushed past.
Something... sweet was carried on the air.
Sickly sweet.
His gaze picked up and began searching anew, no longer for a woman, but for a source, a Grimm, a Plague. It was close, he could smell that much, and as one of the doors to a shop opened and a woman clad in warm finery stepped out, the scent grew stronger.
Her.
Pale skin glistening like the snow, black hair darker than the night, and eyes like burning embers.
She was perfect.
His pace began once more, increasing slightly with each step. Eyes locked on her now, there was no hope of losing her, but now that she was in his sights, how could he possibly approach her? Planning ahead for Sloane was not a science and was mostly reserved for military tactics, means of attack--this was not such a situation and a worried frown was plastered across his features as he came up beside the woman. He was at a loss.
"Miss..." he began, aimlessly. This would be difficult.
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Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 5:32 pm
Beatrix reasoned that she did not like Shyregoad very much, as even though her time in Imisu had accustomed to freezing cold temperatures she much preferred the changing weather then this constant chilliness, Mother Nature's grip firm on the barren, mountainous landscape.
It had been a long journey to here and it might as well have been easier to go back Mishkan and then procure any produce that came from Shyregoad - well, the travel time would have probably spoiled most fruits and vegetables, considering the proximity between the two regions. And somehow she just couldn't find herself going back to Mishkan, as if the memories of her childhood, of better times would haunt her. Now she was finally alone, with no parents or anyone at all. The wretched plague had saw fit to that.
It almost made her expression turn to contempt when she thought of how she was carrying around with her a product of the plague with her, all the way from Imisu. But she couldn't leave it home, that was out of the question. It better served as a good luck charm - or at the very least kept the lesser evils away.
Nothing had bothered her along her travels nor during her short time here so far, as if perhaps unconsciously people would not approach her and harass her, a woman alone. Beatrix certainly didn't complain.
And so her search continued and she entered into an apothecary, seeking expert advice and purchasing a few herbs. It was definitely a good start and she felt that she was well on her way to creating something that could benefit the masses. Beatrix wondered what the Council would possibly think of the idea that candy could possibly help an ailment, even if the logic was there. It still might seem like a silly idea to most people. But she truly didn't care what they thought - she could use her money however she liked. She'd endured enough to do so.
She stepped out, bag in hand and found a cloaked figure almost instantly approaching her. Her guard was up and her expression like stone as she looked upon him. "Yes? How may I help you?" Beatrix replied like any proper lady would, polite but stern. Being a foreigner here she was especially wary and wanted the man to say his piece and be off.
Especially because something about him... well, she didn't know how to place the words, but there was something about him...
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Posted: Mon Aug 02, 2010 8:28 am
Well, now he had gone and done it.
Jumping the gun, that's what sir Sloane, Estratus' Sword, would be known for down the road all because he had gotten too bleeding excited by the prospect of a plague ridden woman.
It wasn't until Miss Beatrix Amaranthe turned to face him up close that her features truly soaked in. The thin eyebrows, the gently slanted nose, the high and hidden cheekbones, the slight but near constant pout to her lips. It was all the same.
They could have been twins.
This, above all else, made Sloane falter, pausing in his approach and speech, hand just barely stretched out from himself and hanging uselessly in the air towards this woman. Beneath the cloak, his eyes were wide, unsure whether to accept what was before him as reality or hallucination. It was too good to be true. No one in Helios looked even slightly similar to his Lady and here he was, returning home dejected, and what should he find?
"Miss," he repeated, though it sounded rather lackluster. He tried again, speaking more firmly, "I apologize for approaching you as I have, it is unorthodox and I am sure you are not pleased with these circumstances." What woman would be? The fact she was a foreigner was lost on Sloane, but to be approached by a total stranger wearing a cloak, even if it was the middle of the day, was never really a good sign, especially when said woman was without escort. "I have a question, Miss, one of utmost importance..." Sloane's eyes downcast as the weight of his request and the insanity of it was fully realized, and so his voice lowered in time, "...And I feel as though I may need to prostrate myself before you for this to be taken even in the least bit of good faith.."
Something about this woman, though.
Nevermind the fact if she and his Lady were put side by side in the same outfit, there would be nothing to tell them apart except for perhaps the rouge adorning Miss Amaranthe's face, but there was something else, something lingering and nagging at Sloane. That sickly sweet smell. It couldn't have been perfume, he could smell something else there though it was faint. No, this was not a scent a human woman would go out of her way to wear.
In fact, it smelled as though whatever it was were concealed, hidden.
Yes...
And what was once perhaps a straight, honest and maybe even a pitiable face gave rise to a sharp and dangerous grin from ear to ear, filling up the entire hood bottom as his shard-like teeth glistened. "You are far too perfect. You're hiding a Plague, aren't you? An item..." he took a deep inhale, leaning closer and sighing as though completely intoxicated, "No... You have a small one." His smile grew wider, if it were even possible, and his red swirled eyes lit up like a fire behind the shadow of the hood.
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Posted: Mon Aug 02, 2010 9:06 am
From the first word the man had uttered Beatrix had gotten a bad feeling about him, that she knew something was wrong. But she was a lady, after all, and he had spoken to her so she couldn't just ignore him and continue on her way. But that wouldn't have been an entirely incorrect course of actions, being a female traveler alone. And most high class ladies ignored regular people on the street in Imisus. But she had been brought up better then that, and so she would entertain the notion that the man had something noteworthy to stay.
Beatrix could feel his eyes on her, but not the way most men looked at her - analytical seemed to be the best term for it. There was something not right at all with this situation and the fact that he seemed nervous was indication that something was awry. And at the slightest forwardness of physical contact, the hand dangling in front of her she straightened her posture to appear rigid and strong.
Beatrix would be intimidated by no man, not even a shady one as this disguised in a cloak. Anyone who put up a physical facade was to be avoided, but it was the ones who put up an immaterial one were to be kept an especially close eye on. But these were things you learned from experience. From mistakes. Costly mistakes. And she was done with putting herself in compromising situations.
But he began to speak and she forced herself to hear his piece, with every intention of disconnecting herself from this situation when he was done. Beatrix's eyes were set on him, emotionless and unfaltering. The fact that he was trying to make her comfortable, apologizing for the situation only made her more wary. Any emotional pleas from men no longer phased her. She was no fool.
Beatrix watched him, mildly curious for what this request was - but she had no intention of accepting, not from this man, and also slightly irritated with the fact that he couldn't to his point. She didn't have all day to waste her time with him. She was about to ask him what it was he wanted from her when in a second his demeanor changed quite drastically and her train of thoughts were halted.
Something about him seemed predatory as the mask was lifted, a grin appearing and red eyes alight. That wasn't enough to intimidated her but the words that came were probably the least welcome things she could possibly here. In that moment Beatrix decided that her curiosity was satisfied and that she was going to get away from this man as fast as possible. Her inhale stopped when he leaned in and it took every inch of will not to step back.
"Sir," Beatrix began, as serious as can be with no traces of fear in her voice or her eyes, staring at him dead on. "I am unsure if that is the normal protocol to greet a lady here but that sort of talk is not appreciated where I come from. It was a pleasure to meet you but I must be off now." Beatrix said, inspecting him carefully. Then she lowered her voice, a warning: "If you follow me I'll go straight to one of the guards and say you're harassing me. Are we clear?"
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Posted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 5:19 pm
Stupid.
Idiot.
Blathering numbskull.
All too often his instincts took over, the side of him tainted by the darkest reaches of the Plague, making him curse his existence as an Infitialis. He had been a Servos... If only he had stayed on the straight and narrow and managed to become something welcome in this earthly diseased hell of a country.
He watched as she was beginning to retreat, turned about face and threatened to contact the guards. Whether they knew him or not, he had no authority here, this was the queen's territory, not the Mage's, and he would be ground under their boot like any other foul entity that they desired off their streets.
Why did he have no self control when it came to others of his kind?
"I apologize again, miss, for taking up your time," he started, taking a cautious step or two after her, not making an intimidating pace as he continued on. As botched as this now was, he had to make it work. There would never be another opportunity like this, never a one in a million years and a thousand suns. "I come from the Fellowship with a most important political request..." The only way to prove this now would be to flash their sigil, their sign, the third and all seeing eye.
Parting his cloak at the front, he waved a hand to the mark emblazoned on the chest of his tunic, threaded perfectly were the swirls and dots and the eye at the center. So different, it was, from the Council's mark but all too familiar to anyone in Panymium. If there were any who did not know of the Mages by name and symbol, surely they were too young, uneducated and blind to the world around them. Just like dear Chauhn had been...
"A mission that requires only the utmost expertise...!" still he pursued while keeping himself at a safe and unassuming distance, telling only as much as he could to attempt piquing her interest and not have her call the guards on him as she so threatened.
There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she would. She was a strong and independent woman, just like his Lady.
It was uncanny.
Huffing slightly, he saw his breath swirl before him and he came to a halt. There had to be something, anything he could say to make her stop and turn around, to have him explain more. What, what, what... "We would be most indebted to you! The payment and recognition would be unparalleled!" It was worth a shot.
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Posted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 6:05 pm
The man should have known that intimidating a woman was foolish and wise, and that there would be consequences. Especially a strong, independent woman who had already been pushed around by a man for a great part of her life, years that would shape her outlook on all men.
And so her threat was anything but a bluff. She would call the guards on him in a heartbeat. As he approached her she stepped back - every action had a consequence, and this was his. Beatrix would not allow any physical closeness between them, and if he pressed for it she would bolt in a second to the closest guard.
As the man apologized she was ready to leave, but there was another twist to this conversation. Practically out of the blue he showed her a Fellowship sigil with quite curious words. She recognized it, but she felt no particular pull to it. She had not grown up in Shyregoad, after all.
And then, there was the matter of a mission...
Beatrix merely waved him off - she was on a mission of her own, and she had no way of knowing whether this was some con into recruiting her. What a low way to convert people to the cause! Had the Fellowship really stooped so low?
Finally, her eyes darted over to him in a cold anger at the mention of payment, like it was some sort of bribe. This - this promise of payment! No doubt they got many recruits like that, many poor peasants...
"First of all, I think it's appalling the way you're conning poor, destitute people into joining your organization. Second of all, I have wealth of my own and do not need your empty promises. Third of all, I'm a member of the Council so I suggest you do not harass me unless you'd like to hear from them." She said sternly, talking as if she had some pull in the Council, though in reality she did not.
In time she would, her work would get her there. At least she was part of some respectable organization.
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Posted: Thu Sep 16, 2010 6:31 am
With each sentence from the woman, Sloane's heart sank. He was between a rock and a hard place and things were looking bad. The absolute worst case and extreme scenario would be to threaten her into at least getting away from the guards and hearing him out, but that would create such a stigma about the whole thing...
He would really be no better than an Obscuvan if he stooped that low. No, he couldn't do it, it had to be civil and he had to persuade her with words, not force!
Empty promises, she called them, when they would truly pay her for services rendered. Called him and the Mages as a whole con-men, trying to weasel as many followers as they can, any way they can. It wasn't right and it wasn't true, least of all was it fair! She didn't know, she had no idea what had gone on, the sacrifices that were being made and all of her accusations were one hundred percent false.
But still, had opinions of the Fellowship truly sunk so low? He had spent all of his life in Shyregoed, born and raised, among the snowy mountains and stone walls and the magical folk, it all seemed so grand and wonderful and ideal to him. Science was interesting, but magic, oh, he could really get behind that because that was what he was used to. Now, though... despite the Fellowship being a centuries old organization of wealth and knowledge and prosperity, the plague had written them off. They were no longer to be looked upon with admiration or as though they had the answers. In truth, they didn't, but they wanted to find them just as much as the scientists.
The Council!
Sloane's eyes lit up again, this time with an eager surprise. He appeared dumbfounded for a moment before straightening himself up and righting his cloak.
"The Council!" he chirped, fists clenched with excitement and a genuine smile on his face. His teeth showed despite the shadows of his hood, but the look was not intended to be a frightening one; quite the opposite as joy painted his face. "You are with the Council? Truly?" That was a fact he could not pass up, it worked too perfectly. "We are in a truce! A companionship, the Council and Fellowship! Working together for a common goal; the cure to the plague!" The cure to himself, how ironic.
There had to be something she would like to hear, something that would make her undeniably interested into doing this. It had to happen, there was no other way... It was the only way to keep his Lady safe from those murderous crows. "Your head, Dr. Kirkaldy?" he pronounced the last name slowly, making sure he remembered it exactly, "He and our leader, Lady Waldgrave. There was a meeting, a conjoining of ideals! There is no need to join, if you do not wish payment you will not receive it, but surely the Council will look on you with favor for assisting their ally!"
The hook was there, or so he hoped, and now there was only one thing left to do: prostrate himself.
Sloane took to one knee, bowing his head and placing a hand on his chest. This would be it, his last chance. If she didn't bite now, then she never would and the game was over. He would have lost. He would have failed his Lady. "I am begging you... Not as a member of the Fellowship or a suffering man... I am but a humble servant to the furthering of a cure... If you refuse... I fear we may be lost." All he could do now was hope.
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Posted: Thu Sep 16, 2010 2:05 pm
Beatrix lived as she saw it.
In short, what assumptions she had made about the Fellowship was based on experiences rather then necessarily what she had heard in rumors - just as inaccurate source, really. She would not have said any of the things she had if it weren't for this man's actions, so it was he who was shaping her opinion of the Fellowship, more so then any preconceived notions, for she didn't have many.
She'd lived in Imisu all her life and she'd had little interaction with the Council or the Fellowship for most of her life, other then whatever travelers had passed through her home town. Upon those measures she'd liked the two groups very much, but that had also been a very long time ago. Things had changed since then, as in her lifetime the scandal of that man - Diefendorf had occurred. What was she to think of any organization now?
At the very least she now that the cult - whatever it was, the name escaped her sometimes, was probably crazy. Even if she could recognize that.
Beatrix forced herself to give a pleasant expression at the mention of the Council. "Yes, I am with the Council." She said, looking weary as he explained to her what her personal and professional goal was. She knew, and she knew that the Fellowship stood for as well.
Still, the notion of some reward wasn't entirely lost on her. She was a woman of ambitions, though not selfish ambitions. "You could secure advancement?" Beatrix asked off-hand, though didn't sound convinced in the least yet. If she were to advance in ranks she could help more, simple as that.
But she was already on her way to doing that with her own hard work.
Most surprising of all was the position that he put himself in, down on one knee, begging and pleading - and it was hard for her heart not to soften up. It was an unconscious association, but Sloane would have been simply happy that she was reconsidering at all, no doubt. There was a pause as she got her thoughts together, considering this all.
Finally, she spoke.
"What must I do?" It was a question, leaning in the other directions - not quite conviction, but she was not fleeing, either.
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Posted: Thu Sep 16, 2010 4:05 pm
His heart was pounding in his throat as silence briefly washed over them, eyes glued to the ground before him, not daring to look up at the woman until she spoke. The only thing reassuring him from having failed so utterly was that she was not retreating. She was staying exactly where she stood, as though giving the prospect thought.
Her next words caused a quiet sigh of surprise and minimal relief. So it was to get higher into the Council's ranks she wanted? Fine. Brothers in arms were the Council and Fellowship, and he was the Plague of the Adviser of the entire Mage population in Panymium. If nothing else, strings could likely be pulled to make it easier for her to advance, if not an immediate advancement itself.
"What must I do?"
Relief crashed over Sloane with such force that he nearly fell forward. Catching himself with a hand, he looked up at the woman from the ground, not daring to rise to his feet yet for fear of her changing her mind.
"I... am afraid it is a confidential matter..." That sounded so suspicious it wasn't even funny. "But please believe me when I say, you may be the only one in Panymium that can assist us with this problem." Sighing at himself, the Plague pushed himself to a stand, clutching the neck of his cloak and glancing at all of the nearby people who could easily watch or eavesdrop on their conversation. Suspicious it would be to ask her to go somewhere secluded and with no one around and she was clearly not stupid enough to agree to that from anyone she didn't trust wholeheartedly, whether they were an honest man or not.
Perhaps, then, the opposite would have to do.
"Would you accompany me inside?" he didn't rightly care where, just anywhere she would feel comfortable enough not to write him off as a loony or people would be rapt with interest in this highly confidential business. Glancing around, he took note of a pub that didn't appear full to bursting, but was active enough that if he tried anything she was against, he would be immediately found out. Not that he would, but surely this would convince her he was on the up and up. "Is there fine?" he gave the building a quick point of a finger just as a few fur cloaked and drunken fellows with thick beards poured out and began singing raucously.
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Posted: Thu Sep 16, 2010 4:14 pm
Beatrix could not deny help to someone who needed it so desperately, if it was truly a worthy cause. Of course, she did not yet know what it was, so she had not set herself to helping the man just yet. He still had quite a bit of convincing to do.
She watched, ever calculating, ever trying to understand what he wanted from her. But for ever intimidating and forward he may have seemed there seemed to be an almost... bumbling quality to him, as evidenced by the fact that he seemed quite so relieved about the fact that she was willing to reconsider.
But he was sure making it hard to get her on his side. She quirked her eyebrow at the mention that it was a confidential matter. She crossed her arms in disdain, awaiting for him to continue with some favorable words rather then just the fact that this was quite an important matter and that she was the only one that could help.
And the solution he came to was not altogether pleasant.
Beatrix showed some clear disdain from entering a pub where there would no doubt be drunk men, a cold look coming across her face but she marched towards the pub without another word. As just as she expected, there were drunk men as she entered in, but they seemed too into their silliness for the moment. She took a seat at a table in the corner, figuring that the man wanted some privacy for whatever he had to say.
Which was apparently some very important and urgent mission, though she couldn't fathom what.
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Posted: Fri Sep 17, 2010 10:04 am
The woman said nothing, but her expression spoke volumes. She was getting tired of this, and he understood why; if he were able to truly be so upfront about this matter, he would, and therefore would not be wasting her time such as he was, but he just did not see any other way to go about this matter and there were only two solutions: either she heard him out and agreed, or she rejected the idea and he truly was left a simpering failure.
I will not fail her again... he resolved, nodding to Beatrix as she turned around and began walking into the pub.
The smell of alcohol was not as strong as one would normally think for a location such as this. With the turn of events Panymium had taken in the last decade, it made times tough on everyone, and bar tenders had taken to watering their alcohol down to conserve their stock as best they could. Of course, this meant that people did not get drunk as quickly and so they bought more alcohol to feel that buzz they were after. Rather a vicious cycle, really, but Sloane found all businesses generally were.
Leading them to a free table not too far from the public eye but not around anyone who would take a shine to listening in, he clasped his hands in front of himself and stared at them for a moment, gathering his words.
"Again, I must apologize at how unorthodox this is and that I am no doubt wasting your invaluable time, but I'll just get down to brass tacks, shall I?" he offered her a quick glance, not having bothered to pull his hood down upon entering. His face would be too eye catching, especially to drunks. "I do not know how far news has traveled, but recently there was an attack upon the Fellowship's Adviser, Lady Estratus, devised and executed by the House of Obscuvos."
Here, he waited for Beatrix to offer some sort of acknowledging word or gesture, and then continued.
"They were not successful, but she is not safe, not in the least, and they will surely try it again. I do also fear she is not the only one they are after, but that they aim to injure the Council as well, and perhaps the ruling figures of the commonwealth." No one in Panymium was safe; if it wasn't the disease taking lives, it was the Obscuvans who were spurning on more death and destruction and chaos. And for what? So that they may be cleansed and absolved and life happily in the new world that their glutton god will have shat out? Lunacy.
Here was where he began treading carefully, making a small gesture toward her with his hand but not invading her space. "You, miss, look exactly like her Ladyship. Your skin tone, face shape, hair, and your eyes," he looked into her striking orange eyes. The only difference was how she held herself, her mannerisms and tones. She was not Lady Sage Estratus, but she could have damn well been her twin at birth. "My request, miss... and I will understand if you do not accept, as you will be at risk... Is that you return with me to the heart of the Fellowship and play a key role."
Leaning forward just enough that he could lower his voice safely and without fear of her not hearing him, he offered; "I need you to pretend to be Lady Estratus."
As if on cue, a loud string of guffaws erupted from the men at the bar as one of their kinsman just finished regaling them with a no doubt lengthy and humorous tale.
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Posted: Fri Sep 17, 2010 12:57 pm
Beatrix reasoned that this would be the last opportunity she would give the man to convince her and then she was off. She had to put her foot down eventually, and at the very least she would have completely heard him out. A bar was not her ideal environment for an important talk, but it would have to do. She wasn't going into a completely secluded place with this shifty figure.
She said nothing as they settled at the the table, letting him begin. The only nod she gave was at the news of the attack upon Lady Sage Estratus by the insane cult. Was it a plea for sympathy? Beatrix didn't make too many assumptions, but instead continued providing her full attention to listening him out.
The world was in turmoil, and it had been for some time, this she understood. Things were getting worse before they got better, but that was how it always was. Though, usually there weren't lunatics impeding progress. As the information got more specific she placed her hands on the table, clasping them together as her eyes were focused on the man, namely his face, or what she could see of it. Beatrix trusted her instinct about people - though... she had been wrong before, blinded by emotions.
But there was none of that now. She only had her wits to guide her to a decision.
Beatrix watched him curiously as he explained that she bore a striking resemblance to the leader of the Fellowship, her mind working towards the conclusion that she was told moments after she had figured it out.
The laughter in the distance made her gaze out vacantly behind her before looking back at the man who asked quite a great favor from her, asking her to participate in what would no doubt be a dangerous mission.
But it would be for the good of Panymium, for the cause of curing the Plague.
"And you will grant me whatever I ask for, in return?" Beatrix said gently, thinking of how she needed to think of herself and how to help the cause even after it was all over. What the Fellowship could grant her could aid in that.
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Posted: Thu Sep 23, 2010 8:20 am
As he spoke, the woman still seemed quite annoyed by the whole matter but she would not have agreed to hear him out if she were not even slightly interested or curious. That he was thankful for.
Her expression contorted occasionally to various things; unease, apprehension, suspicion, annoyance. Truthfully, Sloane could not blame her for feeling this way and he largely blamed himself more than what he was asking of her. Never had he had to dig himself out of a rut like that and never had he met someone so intent on being anti-social that it hindered his progress. Whenever he did meet someone like her, it would not have made any difference what he said or did and so he did not have to keep himself in check but now he did and it was difficult, to say the least.
He watched as Beatrix gave the idea some thought after he stopped speaking, clasping his hands in front of himself much as she did. It took a few moments but eventually she came out with a question, however self serving.
"Whatever you ask... In particular, I assume advancement within the Council?" he waited for a word or gesture of confirmation, "If we cannot get you this exactly, we can at least lay down the means for you to advance. I cannot imagine the Council not rewarding someone for helping their ally in a time of need, especially with such an imperative task..." He wavered uneasily on the inside, hoping this was convincing. Once all was said and done and she agreed, he would bring her back to the North Base with him and get her room and board before locating the Black Knight and having him speak with his Lady. Sloane had no doubt in his mind that she would send word to the Council that this woman of science was assisting her, though how would likely have to be kept secret in case of interception, and the stepping stones towards her request would be set into place.
Adjusting himself in his seat, his gaze cast down to the table and away from the woman before him's eyes. "Again, I must stress the importance of this... We... I would be indebted to you." As another person entered, the wind picked up and he caught the sweet scent of death from the woman once more. Where was she hiding the little one? Why had they not come out to say hello? It was all so unusual, most Griimms Sloane had come across may not have been proud to be taking care of a Plague but either their Plagues were so willful that they stayed in the open or the Grimm was intent to treat them like a person.
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