Evidence that the dreams were not entirely in our control! If it makes you feel better, though, I think I was demoted to supporting character. I don't remember dreaming of anyone real before the very end.
[She will be very shocked if Edgard brings up a contradiction at any point.]
Alack and alas, it wasn't that simple. Even dreams can't get their narrative shit together. Are you busy tonight? I would like to take you out for dinner and a show.
[And, indeed, at the time they agreed, she turns up in a simple dress over heavy stockings, light but sturdy boots, and an nondescript gray cloak for the cold. With gloves covering her anchor shard, no one in Lowtown is likely to give her a second look. When she joins him at the street corner he'd indicated, she makes a small show of looking him up and down.]
You don't seem too much the worse for wear for a demotion to Tragic Backstory. I'm glad.
Edited (seeing a spelling error right after hitting post) 2021-02-18 02:09 (UTC)
[ Loxley is not as good at discretion, with his height, his horns, the gravestone grey of his skin and bright eyes, but an effort has been made, and his clothing is likewise unremarkable. The cloak he wears is big and heavy, speckled with rain, stained at the hem from mud.
He splays it out with his arms as if to show himself off for her inspection, smile crooked. ]
Not bleeding all over the place, [ he agrees. ] You—do in fact resemble a supporting character, I'm loathe to say, but that's the point.
Shall we? Before we start losing toes.
[ The street is a mess of snow-slush, frozen mud, iced over pavement, just about every hellish thing you could wish out of a wintry city street in Lowtown. ]
I'd like to make a slight detour before we arrive.
I'm with you. You haven't subjected me to a boring evening yet.
[The weather is certainly unpleasant, and Ket is still not entirely sure why anyone would live in Kirkwall on purpose absent a Fade-related accident tying them there. Still, she's light-footed enough to navigate the slushy streets without too much trouble as long as she pays attention. That means her eyes aren't on him when she asks:]
We're seeing about a man who's been sighted lurking about the alienage at night.
[ Loxley knows a little, knows enough, that possibly assuming that Ket would give a fuck about some city elves being harassed is not a guarantee. But he knows even less as to her point of origin, and besides all that, he knows better that she has a skill in finding for herself the answer to such questions as: what's in it for me.
Which, as an adventurer for hire, he can respect. ]
And reports of people—elves—going missing, which has apparently happened before for spells at a time. Now, I know what you're thinking, Loxley, why not just cut something off him so he doesn't do it again, to which I say, excellent question.
The answer being, I don't think that'd sort the issue. I don't think he's working alone.
[Her expression doesn't change and her step doesn't falter. But her tone shifts chillier, matching Kirkwall's weather more neatly.]
Do you think we could also cut something off him, though? Once we've sorted the rest of it. As a treat.
[She's usually not terribly bloody-minded, that's so. But on the other hand, he wouldn't have picked her for this job if he imagined her sympathetic to this sort of behavior.]
[ An easy laugh, dry, a little nefarious in affect— ]
I like your style.
[ Beneath the quip, there is relief. Not that he doubted her, as such, but a job is better done right when it's a little personal, in his opinion, especially something of a more altruistic nature. ]
Our venue for the evening is the Changing Hands. I received a tip that our new friend's expected there, although I've no news why. But, they've a card table, so if we're completely out of luck of anything interesting, maybe you can make it worth our while.
[They can talk about what makes it personal later, or maybe never; see how it goes. For now, though, they're on the same page, and that's what matters.]
Ah yes, I see. Well, you're in luck, no one should know my face at Changing Hands, as far as I'm aware. [Meaning someone will willingly play with her, yes.] You can keep an eye on my back while we're waiting for him. You know I can get focused.
Very well. Your back is plenty charming, if not as much as the front.
[ These lines deployed too effortlessly, as if there's just a part of his brain that's ready to deliver them even as a distracted glance follows a cloaked figure crossing by them. False alarm, but one cannot be too careful. A figure in a cloak so often has a dagger.
That's why they call it that.
Anyway— ]
Rugo Kerrit. He's a bruiser for hire from Darktown. Likes a bit of gambling and beating the shit out of people who owe smarter people than him money, but no particular history of elf hatred, or kidnapping in general. Hence, I doubt he's the end of the line. He sounds very replaceable.
Sounds like the type who would be angry to lose to a woman, a foreigner or both, but equally the sort not to ask questions when a stranger inexplicably finds him attractive while still sober. Do you have a preference for the sort of distracted he is?
[She may have a preference, but either would do in a pinch, and she's the invited guest. Only fair to let the planner take the lead.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enchanted book. a week or so after dreaming.
no subject
Evidence that the dreams were not entirely in our control! If it makes you feel better, though, I think I was demoted to supporting character. I don't remember dreaming of anyone real before the very end.
[She will be very shocked if Edgard brings up a contradiction at any point.]Did I miss out on anything very exciting?
no subject
I was someone's Tragic Backstory apparently. I only got to see the end bits.
no subject
Sounds frustrating. Did the person at least vow to avenge you?
no subject
Are you busy tonight? I would like to take you out for dinner and a show.
no subject
Sounds delightful. What dress code?
no subject
You know, Business Casual.
book to action
Perfect. I will see you then.
[And, indeed, at the time they agreed, she turns up in a simple dress over heavy stockings, light but sturdy boots, and an nondescript gray cloak for the cold. With gloves covering her anchor shard, no one in Lowtown is likely to give her a second look. When she joins him at the street corner he'd indicated, she makes a small show of looking him up and down.]
You don't seem too much the worse for wear for a demotion to Tragic Backstory. I'm glad.
no subject
He splays it out with his arms as if to show himself off for her inspection, smile crooked. ]
Not bleeding all over the place, [ he agrees. ] You—do in fact resemble a supporting character, I'm loathe to say, but that's the point.
Shall we? Before we start losing toes.
[ The street is a mess of snow-slush, frozen mud, iced over pavement, just about every hellish thing you could wish out of a wintry city street in Lowtown. ]
I'd like to make a slight detour before we arrive.
no subject
[The weather is certainly unpleasant, and Ket is still not entirely sure why anyone would live in Kirkwall on purpose absent a Fade-related accident tying them there. Still, she's light-footed enough to navigate the slushy streets without too much trouble as long as she pays attention. That means her eyes aren't on him when she asks:]
Anything I ought to know before we arrive?
no subject
[ Loxley knows a little, knows enough, that possibly assuming that Ket would give a fuck about some city elves being harassed is not a guarantee. But he knows even less as to her point of origin, and besides all that, he knows better that she has a skill in finding for herself the answer to such questions as: what's in it for me.
Which, as an adventurer for hire, he can respect. ]
And reports of people—elves—going missing, which has apparently happened before for spells at a time. Now, I know what you're thinking, Loxley, why not just cut something off him so he doesn't do it again, to which I say, excellent question.
The answer being, I don't think that'd sort the issue. I don't think he's working alone.
no subject
[Her expression doesn't change and her step doesn't falter. But her tone shifts chillier, matching Kirkwall's weather more neatly.]
Do you think we could also cut something off him, though? Once we've sorted the rest of it. As a treat.
[She's usually not terribly bloody-minded, that's so. But on the other hand, he wouldn't have picked her for this job if he imagined her sympathetic to this sort of behavior.]
no subject
I like your style.
[ Beneath the quip, there is relief. Not that he doubted her, as such, but a job is better done right when it's a little personal, in his opinion, especially something of a more altruistic nature. ]
Our venue for the evening is the Changing Hands. I received a tip that our new friend's expected there, although I've no news why. But, they've a card table, so if we're completely out of luck of anything interesting, maybe you can make it worth our while.
no subject
Ah yes, I see. Well, you're in luck, no one should know my face at Changing Hands, as far as I'm aware. [Meaning someone will willingly play with her, yes.] You can keep an eye on my back while we're waiting for him. You know I can get focused.
no subject
[ These lines deployed too effortlessly, as if there's just a part of his brain that's ready to deliver them even as a distracted glance follows a cloaked figure crossing by them. False alarm, but one cannot be too careful. A figure in a cloak so often has a dagger.
That's why they call it that.
Anyway— ]
Rugo Kerrit. He's a bruiser for hire from Darktown. Likes a bit of gambling and beating the shit out of people who owe smarter people than him money, but no particular history of elf hatred, or kidnapping in general. Hence, I doubt he's the end of the line. He sounds very replaceable.
no subject
Sounds like the type who would be angry to lose to a woman, a foreigner or both, but equally the sort not to ask questions when a stranger inexplicably finds him attractive while still sober. Do you have a preference for the sort of distracted he is?
[She may have a preference, but either would do in a pinch, and she's the invited guest. Only fair to let the planner take the lead.]