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Post by Deleted on Aug 5, 2013 23:50:54 GMT
NOT THE NEEDLE, NOT THE THREAD. Greyhollow Main is a lovely place, full of smiling faces and measuring eyes, colorful fabrics that ripple in the breeze and the guards with their polished helmets and burnished swords, all dressed up with nowhere to go and nothing to be, but that isn't where Ellorian is today. She wants side-streets, criss-crossed alleyways, men with dark eyes who eye her jewelry and the wolfdog at her side and then proffer their wares with expressionless faces. She rests her hand lightly on Dog's head (his name is Dog because she can't be bothered to name him anything else) and examines the tray before her: small mounds of dried blood and old bone, stones the color of the night sky in another world, stones the color of the blood they were soaked in for long years. A tiny effervescent wing, still warm with life. She leans back on her heels and shakes her head. What she wants is not here. The next stall--a woman with the light stare of the blind, and the steady hands of an entrepreneur. Ellorian turns a vial of ink over in her hand. Does it sing? LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 1:08:39 GMT
Humans seem to react so strongly to the sight of soldiers in Greyhollow, either drawn to what she imagines is their best finery, or fearful and averse to their presence. There's little a mage of her standing can do against so many, but Galya keeps her eyse lowered and ears tucked into her cap as she passes, and refuses to worry. Humans here don't seem at all startled with her presence, and it's hard for her to remember that the threat armed men can present. She's used to a different sort of finery, woven on thick looms of ancient wood or with the fine, seamless stitches of practised magic. There's efficiency and shine to what these men gird themselves with, but little in the way of elegance, compared to what she's used to. Sometimes she forgets that such an artless species are, for all their other faults, not entirely stupid.
The cap comes off once she's in the market proper, and Galya weaves her way between the stalls with efficiency. She's in no rush, but the bustle here is unfamilar and not terribly pleasant. She misses the smells of home, misses the sound of feet on hardened clay instead of chipped stone. Everything's so happen, something which she's wryly aware should be welcoming to an elf, but having grown up in a cramped little city-town instead of the woods, she finds it a bit unnerving. There's no proper barrier to segregate areas, either- when a vegetable seller dumps out water used to keep his wares from wilting, the puddle drips down the road, forcing the next seller to move his cloths to higher shelves.
One stall catches her eye. After passing by dozens of offerings of glittering stones and jewel-colored cloth, a table covered in dark colors stands out. There are several inks, though what Galya's searching for is a stick of kohl. She could use ink, too, of course, but she's wary of buying any here without testing it. Some of the substances used for that are rather noxious, she's more than once picked up a vial that was unappealing if not unusable.
She steps up alongside another buyer, skeptically glancing over the goods. From the corner of her eye, she spots a glimpse of gold, and she doesn't hide her slight surprise as she turns to the other elf. A moment's hesitation, then she greets her politely in Elvish.
@tsundere
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 3:38:39 GMT
NOT THE NEEDLE, NOT THE THREAD. Dog presses his head against her thigh and whines softly. Ellorian scratches behind his ears, and palms a few coins out of her pouch to hand over the stall-owner and then slip two vials of the ink into her pocket. The ink is a deep crimson that's almost indistinguishable from black. She thinks that it's going to serve her well, red turning to flame and skin turning to ash. Ellorian turns her head at the greeting. Pale hair, pale eyes, pale skin. Taller than her, but most people are. "Hello," she responds in Elvish, and steps to the side of the stall, out of the way. "Do I know you? If you're looking for a contracted job, I prefer to be approached when I'm not on my own time. You can send a letter to the The Crown and Lion inn, if you need." @tikva LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 5:00:42 GMT
I am a voice yet waiting to be heard. It's comfortable, speaking her own language again. Well, elvish isn't her first language, but it's the one she prefers. There's little about this stranger that particularly stands out to her, though really, she's not sure what she was hoping for. Someone who'd be a sign as to where to go in this city. Her sense of direction is impeccable, but useless when she's unsure where she wants to be. The price to pay for greater freedom and safety, it seems, is that there's no sense of kinship here. At home, she'd have been greeted with a welcome even by a stranger- an elven one, at least. The woman isn't openly hostile, though, so Galya doesn't let that deter her. If there's no sense of tribe here, no immediate community ties or obligation, that's no reason not to play her usual game, no? "I'm sorry." It feels a bit strange to engage in deception with a fellow elf rather than a human, but she lets her face slip into a shy smile, and the words become more steady as she goes on. "I didn't mean to intrude- I don't suppose as long as I've found you, there's any chance you'd be willing to discuss a job? I wouldn't ask, but I'm desperate." @tsundere tagged words notes |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 6:02:26 GMT
NOT THE NEEDLE, NOT THE THREAD. The desperate, Ellorian has found, do not generally pay well. Most of them seem to be laboring under the idea that righteous action is its own reward, and gold is a sin. Not a view she generally subscribes to herself. "As long as you pay, I don't care. Half the payment upfront, the rest upon completion. If I can't complete the job--which will never happen, by the way,--you get half your money back. Every contract is signed by all involved parties, and I get a vial of your blood in case you try to run out on paying me. Which is not a good idea. If you want to do this here, I don't care. If you want to go find an inn to draw some paper up, I also don't care. If you want to go find someone less expensive feel free, but that's just going to be a downgrade in quality." The sales pitch rattles out of her mouth mechanically. She's been in this city for half a year and taken a lot of jobs and almost all of them have been the same variation on a theme. Revenge, murder, theft. Justified or unjustified, as long as the coin is real, it's all the same. @tikva LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 6:22:49 GMT
I don't know what he means by that, but I nod and smile. You'd be surprised at how far that response can get you in a conversation where you are completely confused. "As long as I-" new cities, new customs, but a place where one paid to work? Oh- but no, she's completely misinterpreted.
"So you aren't looking to hire someone?"
Perhaps she was a little slow on the uptake. She didn't dwell on that confusion, though, because there was something else she'd keyed in on-
blood.
She knew what you could do with someone's blood, oh, she'd seen that before.
(A body in the street and no one the wiser, or so the man had hoped, but they'd hung him two days later and she'd had to pass under the body every time she passed through the gate. It wasn't often that such things were done, but then, it wasn't often people used blood magic, much less forms that involved an appeal to Shekhina. Instinctually, she muttered Leveya's name beneath her breath for protection.) "And people just- hand over their blood, just like that?" There was open disbelief in her words- who knew so little as to hand over so much power to someone like that? "You're joking." @tsunderetagged words notes |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 6:39:03 GMT
NOT THE NEEDLE, NOT THE THREAD. Ellorian smiles thinly. "No, I never delegate work, I'm afraid. Too much risk involved, and besides I enjoy getting my hands dirty.""They do, yes. Part of the deal." Sometimes people just don't know what they're getting into. They just want to magic away their problems, and they think swords are messy, knives undignified. There are always the educated, of course, but anyone who comes to Ellorian for a job they can't do themselves certainly isn't strong enough to say No when she layers her voice with power and pushes them firmly in the direction she wants. Her smile deepens, predatory. "As long as they pay, they come to no harm. Their blood is safer with me than in their own veins." @tikva LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 6:56:56 GMT
Perhaps it's for the best that the woman isn't hiring- Galya's beginning to get the idea that this isn't a sort of work she'd be interested in, or wise to get involved with. On the other hand, who better to help her find her away around a new city than someone who seems more established here? (there is, of course, also the matter of a few skills she needs to pick up- but that can wait until she has enough coin to afford to pay for that, and a bit more of an idea of who this person is). "I suppose you expect more than their gratitude," she's not pouting, no, well, perhaps only a little. "I don't know that this is the sort of work you're used to taking on, but as long as you're here, is there any chance I could pay you for a... view of the city?" Frankly, she's more interested in useful tips than tourism- where to find bargains, a safer place to stay, what areas to avoid, who's name she should know- but the details can be worked out once she knows if there'll be any use. And to keep the woman on the hook... "I... might have a job more like what you're used to, once I get my bearings here." Lying to someone who deals in people's blood isn't the wisest thing she's ever done, but it's not really a lie, is it? More like a... a partial truth. She'll find a way to mold what she's after into something that sounds close enough, anyway, and maybe she can sell it as a high point that there'll be less risk involved. No hand-dirtying, at least, not if all goes well. (She thinks of Ne'edar, lying motionless in the road, and the human who walked away from his body, but she barely knows his face let alone his name, and she knows better, doesn't she, than to walk back into trouble) @tsundere tagged words notes |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 19:39:39 GMT
NOT THE NEEDLE, NOT THE THREAD. A view of the city? "Tempting," she drawls, "But I think I'm going to have to pass. I'm sure you can find an urchin squirming around here who would do it for an eighth of the coin and double the enthusiasm. Now if you settle in and still have a more interesting job to be taken care of, hopefully you'll remember where to find me. If not..." Ellorian shrugs and moves along to the next stall, Dog padding after her. @tikva LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 20:03:44 GMT
Smile slipping from her face, Galya abandoned the ink stall, following after Ellorian. "I would think someone in your line of work would know the importance of not turning aside a new friend," she purred, stepping perhaps just a little too close. It'd been a while since she got to pull this sort of bluff, and perhaps she was having a bit too much fun with it.
Lowering her voice, she added, "The sort of places I'm looking to see, I'd need to be able to conduct certain kinds of business- nothing I'd want to explain to an urchin who'd as soon pass that along for a little more coin."
She'd missed an opportunity, she could have implied that she wanted a 'tour' so she could purchase a job in a more private area. Damn. Inwardly cursing, Galya tried to figure out how to turn this to her advantage. It shouldn't be that hard. Some cut-throat had nothing on a mage like herself, right? "You'd do well to remember there are some skilled with abilities knives or poison can't touch, sell-sword," she leaned in, dropping her voice all the way to a whisper. Letting her eyes cloud and stare past Ellorian into the distance was the stuff of habit, as was keeping a firm, clenched jaw.
Shame the thing she relied on most for intimidation was her appearance. She was used to non-elves who were fearful of her and her magic, who whispered tales of charms and little dolls used to drop human men in their tracks with the twitch of an elven ear. That wasn't likely to work on this woman, for obvious reasons. "I can be a very beneficial friend.... or a very, very vindictive enemy." @tsundere tagged words notes |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 7, 2013 1:11:48 GMT
NOT THE NEEDLE, NOT THE THREAD. Ellorian bites down on her first impulse, which is to just continue walking away until she melted into the crowd, and her second impulse, which is to set the other woman's shirt on fire. "You should practice that line in the mirror some more if you want it to be really effective," she says. "I'm not interested in friends, and I highly doubt you'd be a challenging enemy. But if it'll make you happy, you can have my room number at the inn."Ellorian turns her back on the other woman and commandeers the surface of the nearest stall, shoving a man's carefully erected display of spices away to clear a spot and ignoring his angry yelling. Fishing a piece of parchment, a quill and the ink she'd purchased minutes earlier from her pack, she carelessly scribbles a few numbers and words down before folding the paper lengthwise and stamping it shut with a seal in the shape of a laurel flower. She pushes the letter into Galya's hands, expressionless. "Talk to me later, if you want, but I have business to do now." Dog pushes against the back of her legs impatiently and Ellorian turns back to the shouting stall-owner to silence him with a cold glare. [Notes: The writing reads "Fennel, Oleander, Vanilla, 13 678 3" and they're Explosive Runes that will explode upon Galya reading them. Your choice as to whether she opens the paper in the market or if we segue into a follow-up thread.] @tikva LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 7, 2013 2:15:14 GMT
The room number will have to do. It's not exactly a victory, but she's not sure how far she can press her luck- at least without a fight breaking out. The last thing she needs to do is get arrested. Unwilling to leave without at least a show of bravado, Galya tucks the note into a pocket, her eyes taking on a faint glow. A low fog picks up, rising from the ground until it reaches nearly waist high. Low visibility doesn't have the same panache as disappearing in a puff of smoke, but it will have to do. She turns and walks away slowly, the fog licking at her legs, then disipating behind her. @tsundere tagged
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( A followup would be nice- do you care if any trouble's raised? If you don't mind, I'll have her pass it off to the human where she's staying who does her errands, and let him be the injured one and any repercussions from that?)
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