| 
  • If you are citizen of an European Union member nation, you may not use this service unless you are at least 16 years old.

  • You already know Dokkio is an AI-powered assistant to organize & manage your digital files & messages. Very soon, Dokkio will support Outlook as well as One Drive. Check it out today!

View
 

Log: Favor for (two) Favors

Page history last edited by wastevens@... 15 years, 6 months ago

PCs: Passes Through Flames, Masq Timor

 

-Passes Through Flames-

     Before you is a young-ish woman, about 25. She is absolutely captivating, her beauty nearly beyond description. She is dressed in the manner of the south, a light linnen robe covering all but her head and hands, well-made leather sandals on her feet, showing off ruby toenails. Her fingers are painted the same color, and she has long, flowing auburn hair, reaching nearly to her waist and held together by an intricate silver clasp just above the small of her back. In addition to that jewelery, she has large hoop earings in her ears, bright gold with a small yellow stone in a silver setting at the very bottom. She has a set of bangles on each hand, held together by a series of silver chains. The chains also connect to a ring around each of her middle fingers, and on her left hand the chains are interrupted by a brillant bloodred stone in a silver setting, almost the size of an egg and covering most of the back of the hand. The light reflecting through it brings out an ever-shifting pattern of flames that seem moments away from bursting out. Her robe is covered by a beautiful set of Lamellar armor, laquered in a brillant purple. Despite this, her figure is easily made out beneath it, through the robe. It is every bit as beautiful as her face, showing the suppleness of a born dancer. There is a perpetual smile on her face, and her eyes, an azure that compliments the armor, dance with laughter all the time. Truely, a woman who seems to be not just content, but loving her life.

 

OOC: Appearance 5.

 

-Masq Timor-

Before you stands a man of middling years, his eyes bright and blue and clear. He stands very straight, a little shorter than average, with the beginnings of a well-fed paunch obvious through his cloths. A network of crows' feet and worrylines spread across his thin face, his thin lips pulled into a thin frown. His dark hair is pulled back pony tail, and greying at the temples. His full beard is still more pepper than salt, hiding his chin and upper neck.

He is dressed is very fine clothing, cut from dark silks and rich white furs. He wears a tight silver chain, and a pair of gold rings, one encrusted with small rubies, the other set with a large diamond. The cut and worksmanship are both exceptional, and exude a quiet aura of wealth and power around him.

 

---

 

Here in the Bastion District, the people are rich, the shopping is fine, and the office of Masq Timor can be found. Relatively unassuming, paneled in rare white woods from the depths of the Northeastern forest, it smells fresh and feels cool, even in the midst of the stink of Nexus that pervades even here.

The first floor is filled with scribes at desks, dealing with clients of various social strata. A few armed men, spears held casually, joke with one another. A darkhaired woman briskly moves between the desks, looking over shoulders without making comment, making the scribes sweat a little more.

It is to here that people come with problems. Material problems, or problems that powerful friends can sometimes see to getting fixed. Problems that otherwise seems somewhat intractable.

 

It is into this ordered realm that a young woman walks, her booted feet clicking against the wooden floor. She walks up to the reception desk and waits patiently for someone to notice her, seemingly nervous. An astute observer would notice, however, that she carries herself very well for such a young person, and that her nerves are (at least partly) an act. Also, were anyone close enough to notice, her eyes hold the confident look of some one many years her senior.

 

Masq Timor several of the scribes pause in their work to admire the new arrival, until the dark haired woman walks by their desks, rapping them sharply with her knuckles. She then walks over to the pretty, albiet nervous, woman, giving her a broad and reassuring smile. "Welcome to the business of Timor. Please, if you'll have a seat... he'll be with you in just a moment." She gives an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid you caught him with another client, at the moment."

 

Passes Through Flames looks at the woman and smiles shyly back. "Thank you very much, ma'am. It's quite alright." Her accent is that of the south, very deep and slightly hard to understand. She dips a quick cursty and scurries off to sit in one of the indicated chairs. Her posture is excellent, and her hands are clasped on her lap. Her expression of wonder makes her look like a kid dressing up in her father's clothes. And, she might be. That /purple/ armor looks awefully decorative. She doesn't even have any weapons, for Sun's sake.

 

A few minutes later, a thin, pale man, hair slicked back and dark black walks down the stairs. He's dressed... strangely... in a mix of funeral garb and warrior's armor. From around him come the quiet sighs and moans that mark soulsteel. But he carries an easy grace, and nods gentlily towards many of the scribes as he passes, who tap their foreheads in respect.

 

The dark haired woman speaks briefly to the figure, giving a short professional laugh at some shared joke, and then returns to Passes as he leaves. "Alright. Masq will see you now."

 

The upstairs office is very nearly as large as the whole floor beneath it, with several expensive paintings and sculptures lining the walls. The back wall is dominated by a large, dark wood desk, behind which is seated Masq, contemplating several reports with a frustrated frown. To his back, a large and heavily armed man stands at attention, a heavy bladed long hafted axe at the ready. As the dark haired woman ushers you to a seat across from Timor, he lights up. "Ah, another guest. Good, good. And I hope such a charming visitor will bring good news," he adds with a smile that seems a bit forced, as he puts the papers away. "Please, can I offer you any refreshments?"

 

Passes Through Flames jumps up quickly, nodding. "That was very quick. Thank you again, Ma'am." She follows the woman upstairs, staring around, eyes wide, at everything. The office is marvoulous, eliciting the no doubt wanted gasp. She takes the proffered chair and smiles back. "Yes, thank you. I would like some plum wine, if you have it. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." She gives a seated bow, returning to her ramrod posture, hands again folded attentively on her lap.

 

Masq Timor nods at the request, his smile growing a little more. A bare minute later, the dark haired woman is back, bearing a bottle of the dark purple wine and a pair of small, thin stemmed glasses- their construction impressive and absurdly expensive. "So," Masq asks, as the wine is poured. "I hope, of course," he adds suddenly, "That you know that my time is valuable, young lady. I maintain that anyone can come to see me, but it's unwise to waste my attention." He considers her, eyes tracing... her armor. Definitely her armor. "Not that I would assume such to be the case here, of course."

 

Passes Through Flames smirks slightly, hiding it by sipping her wine. As soon as the other woman is gone, her mask drops. Her posture changes from polite attention to easy readiness, her look changing from awed to competent. "You would be right in assuming that. I do not waste time. I have come for information, because I heard that you are one to speak with about such matters." Her accent is completely gone, as is her 'innocent young woman' demeanor. She now seems a lot more like she belongs in that armor, and knows how to use it. She doesn't miss the tracing eyes, but ignores them. That's the point of a body like this, isn't it?

 

Masq Timor huhs, and briefly registers his startled-ness at the suddenly attitude change. He puts his own wine aside, unsipped. "So. Information." He nods briefly. "Certainly, I have friends who hear things, now and again, and can ask discretely of them, on the behalf of others. However, information is... an interesting thing to bargin." He smiles thinly, showing the tops of his teeth. "It's not like a caravan shipment, where I can work out the numbers and see the profit. So, what do you want to know?"

 

Passes Through Flames smiles sweetly, showing her teeth. "I would like to know anything you can find out on the whereabouts of the Lunar exalted named Owl's Wisdom. He is a powerful sorceror, as well as being an elder. He also takes newly Exalted lunars and teaches them of the ways of the world and their power. I have been searching for him for quite a long time, and haven't been able to come up with anything, so I figured that you could help me. Can you?"

 

Masq Timor hesitates, giving Passes a long, considering look. "Well. That could prove troublesome." He drums his fingers on his desk, the smile vanishing as his eyes half-close, as if working out some figures. "Such people tend to be found when they want to be found. Does he know you're looking for him?"

 

Passes Through Flames nods. "Yes, he does. I would prefer it if he doesn't find out if you begin looking for him, too."

 

Masq Timor nods slightly, considering. "That makes it a little trickier, but not much. What's your name? That is, a name he'll recognize?" His eyes open again, but his smile is still vanished. "I know that some prefer not to deal in true names, but I'll need to ask in yours to mask my own involvement."

 

Passes Through Flames enclines her head. "My name is Passes Through Flames. Though not my true name, that is one he'll recognise, as it was him who gave it to me. Please don't take offense to this, but you haven't earned the right to know my true name. Very few people have, and fewer still shall in the future."

 

Masq Timor shrugs slightly at the comment. "Oh, no question on that front. Like I said, some prefer not dealing in true names." He smiles again. "So. Owl's Wisdom, elder, powerful. Knows you're looking for him." He nods to himself. "That only leaves the question of payment to settle. And, as I said previously, information is... a difficult thing to barter about. Hard to measure the risk and reward- although I can safely say here, that the risk seems not insubstancial. So the rewards will hopefully be something of superior quality and passing excellence."

 

Passes Through Flames crosses her arms. "What would suffice for you? I look around and see that you are quite well off in the money department, so 'something of superior quality and passing excellence' is not likely to be monetary. That leaves quite a lot of other things, but it is up to you. Tell me what you think is a fair price, and I'll tell you whether I can pay it or not."

 

Masq Timor smirks slightly. "Well, I suppose I could ask for a deep breath without your armor on..." he starts, before shaking his head. "But my secretary would get jealous. Ever had a jealous secretary? It's a bit like having your flesh peeled off slowly by a dozen hot knives. So, something else." He considers, rubbing his chin. "Well. Do you have any particular talents?"

 

Passes Through Flames raises an eyebrow. "Without my armor on, my robes are quite loose. You wouldn't get to see anything. Besides, you would ask so little?" She snorts. "Talents? I am quite talented at many things, though mostly at combat. I can also go places and see and hear things that most would be unable to. How's that for talents?"

 

Masq Timor hmms, waving a hand vaugely. "I have others for fighting, and frankly, if you're coming to me to learn something, it somewhat implies I've got more talents in that area than you," he retorts. Then pauses to consider. "Still... Would you be amenable to owing a pair of favors? Doubtlessly, at some point, I'll want to learn something you'll be ideal for finding out. Something to be learned quietly, and discretely. Seem like a fair offer?"

 

Passes Through Flames looks at him frankly. "Two favors for one? That seems quite pricey. Still, it doesn't look like I've got a choice. Two favors, on the condition that I can refuse each one, once. How does that sound?"

 

Masq Timor hmms, and nods. "Sounds fair," he says, offering a hand across the desk. "I'll bring you word of Owl's Wisdom's location. And after, you'll owe me two favors, each of which may be redeemed once."

 

Passes Through Flames lets the hand stay there for the moment. "You mean refused, right?"

 

Masq Timor blinks, and nods, the pauses to write it out- replacing the 'redeemed' with a 'refused'. "I did. Forgive an old man such a slip of the tongue. No harm was meant." He slides the paper across the Passes, his script neat and clear Riverspeak. "Does that seem accurate?"

 

Passes Through Flames she scans the page, nodding as she does. "Indeed. We have a bargin, Mr. Timor. It will be a pleasure working with you. And, I doubt you've got peole who can fight like I can, Mr. Timor. Just for the record." She smiles at this, daring him to contradict her.

 

Masq Timor nods slightly at that. "Most likely. But, as a rule, I don't like starting fights- and certainly not with favors. Tends to be a dangerous kind of credit," he explains. Then, "How will I get in contact with you, when I find something?"

 

Passes Through Flames leans back, and purses her lips. "Hmm. How about this?" She reaches up and removes one of her earings. She hands it to him, removing the other as she does so. "You see the stone at the bottom of the earing? Merely concentrate on the stone, wishing to release the spirit within- and I shall be here within the day. Is that acceptable?"

 

Masq Timor picks up the earring, giving it a speculative look, then nods. "Quite acceptable." He opens one of his drawers, placing the ring inside a folder, then returning his attention to Passes. "So. Will that be all, or is there anything else I can help you with?"

 

Passes Through Flames thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. "Nope, that will be all. Thank you very much for your help, Timor." She bows to him, solemnly. When she straightens back up, the innocent girl is back, along with the accent. "Have a good day, Sir, and I will be waiting to hear from you again!"

Comments (0)

You don't have permission to comment on this page.