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Aug 5, 2009 22:48:58 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Aug 5, 2009 22:48:58 GMT -5
The floor jingled with every step, the tiles illuminating beneath the clicking shoes of a showily dressed young man. He adjusted his silk shirt, a gleam of light from above catching on it.
"Hmmm..." He looked down, examining the branching embroidery spreading from around the collar, making sure it was perfectly crisp and straight. As a high level operative of the Fascere Order, his appearance was vital. Doubly so when he was going to be meeting with both his boss and a very high value repeat customer within the next hour.
A familiar voice emerged in his mind, subtley, but still noticable. Wait-- No. Not one voice, two. Then one again. He put a finger to his temple, massaging it slightly. The voices lead to his right.
He turned to face the door, and knocked with a harsh rapping. Having heard no objections, the man opened the door, and stepped into the room, taking care to close it behind him. The enchanted tiles jingled one last time, and then fell silent.
The room was incredibly pedestrian, compared to the heavily magicked hallway that he had just stepped out of. Some kind of unmarred hardwood floor and the crisp white paint on the walls gave the impression of a newly constructed home. The only furnishing present was a cafeteria-style table, with benches built into it. And, presently sitting on one of the benches, while folding a shirt similar to the one he was wearing, was a dashing young gentleman.
"Hey Terrian. Good news," Nopcsa paused, waiting for his comrade to set the shirt atop an identical pile.
"We've got a juicy job offer."
OOC: Nopcsa and Terrian for a few rounds. I'll let you guys know when the plot opens up.
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Aug 5, 2009 22:58:55 GMT -5
Post by ch00beh on Aug 5, 2009 22:58:55 GMT -5
OOC: The floor jingled with every step, the tiles illuminating beneath the clicking shoes of a showily dressed young man. He adjusted his silk shirt, a gleam of light from above catching on it. ?
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Aug 5, 2009 23:15:57 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Aug 5, 2009 23:15:57 GMT -5
OOC: .The Fascere Order may be secretly disco themed. Or not.
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Aug 6, 2009 21:07:58 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Aug 6, 2009 21:07:58 GMT -5
The young man stepped forward, took his crimson shirt off (with difficulty; he was trying to move his left arm as little as possible), handed it without comment to the identical young man standing where he had been, and stepped back into position. Alone again, he folded the shirt and dropped it off onto the pile before stepping forward to begin the process all over. He hadn't known whether to stifle a chuckle or a shudder when the Fascere Order had issued him this shirt, but of course it wasn't for him. Or rather, they weren't for him, as he was churning out quite a lot of them. His instructions were to produce "either a thousand or enough to hit the ceiling, whichever comes first." After having lost count too many times to hope for the first goal, he was now trying gamely for the second.
It was too hard for him to keep his mind on the mounting numbers. It was too hard to keep his mind on anything.
That morning a duplicate overseas had broken his arm in a fight. And, of course, that pain had been given to Terrian to feel instead of the duplicate. He could have resolved it in an instant by recalling the duplicate to him -- erasing the wound and, consequently, the pain -- but he needed the duplicate where he was and it would be not be a low-profile move for the duplicate to return after having apparently vaporized in a hospital bed. This was a poor enough blow as it was but these things never seemed to be isolated incidents for Terrian Brogue. One great stroke of bad luck opened up a wide swathe of lesser ones. Over the course of this long gray day he'd been grieved by the sensation of cuts, bruises and sores all over his body, the effects of various mishaps occurring to a couple dozen identical young men scattered across the world.
So it was no easy feat to concentrate on counting to a thousand, or anything else, including the question of why the Fascere Order needed so many of these shirts. The instructions had come with a stringent warning, "DO NOT allow this fabric to come into contact with liquid nitrogen." As if he'd been carrying some along in a thermos. His curiousity had been snuffed out about forty minutes ago. Right now he was only collected enough to observe dully that it was a good thing the shirts couldn't come into contact with dust, as there was certainly enough in the bare room to keep Terrian's eyes nice and red.
He looked up as Nopcsa entered and made his announcement. He would have liked to respond some kind of clever inquiry, but a duplicate in Colorado had reported fairly needlessly that he had lost a tooth to an ill-aimed pair of skis and since then, though Terrian's teeth still appeared intact, he hadn't felt much like talking. He was able to manage a clenched "That so?" and nothing more.
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Aug 12, 2009 20:26:29 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Aug 12, 2009 20:26:29 GMT -5
"Ayup. Got a job running surveillance for one of our clients," Nopcsa took a rough glance at Terrian's mind, noting the dismal overcast, and then quickly pulled back out. Pain didn't really hurt, per se... But it was irritating. Like going to the dentist. When reading minds, he'd feel the spot where agony should be, but it was distant, beyond his senses.
"He was a bit of a nut the last time we sent him a parcel. Kept calling and double checking with our scrying department to ensure it'd get there in time. Almost flipped out when our operatives got sidetracked by some thugs-" Nopcsa shrugged.
"It was only a few gunmen though. Nothing too spectacular. Anywhose, I digress."
"So, he decided that he was impressed enough by that to want our best guys for surveillance to show, and it just so happened that a mindreader and a one man army fit the bill rather nicely."
"That's the situation. Basically, Auguste is asking for us to get our butts out of here, and spend a few nights watching a crazy guy's gigantic mansion. Fun for the whole family." The way that Nopcsa had stated that last statement made it clear. This was a totally mandatory assignment, and regardless of whatever clauses in Terrian's contract, the boss was pushing for him to head out to the front.
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Aug 13, 2009 21:50:42 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Aug 13, 2009 21:50:42 GMT -5
There was one key word here and Terrian settled on it quickly. It was not "gunmen", which might have given Terrian pause in his current state, and it was also not "scrying", the kind of word he tried to pay attention to when it came up in environments like these.
"Mansion," he got out. "Love it. Know what that means?" Terrian tossed one more red shirt onto the pile. "Pantries. Mini-bars. Wine cellars. Huh?" Terrian could see it already: a duplicate, surreptitiously dispatched to take a little look around, returning to the brave sentries with a bottle of vodka under each arm. He rubbed his eyes.
Then he took off the red shirt and, buttoning on his own white dress shirt, added, "Had enough of this anyway. Folding takes forever. Wait 'till--" Here he realized what he was about to say and quickly changed course with what he thought to be commendable presence of mind given the circumstances. "--they see how many I got through."
This was more prudent than finishing the sentence with "--I show Mr. Tylor what I've been practicing." Better to keep the cards close to his chest until he knew he could do it consistently. But since the Ulima Tournament, Terrian had been looking forward to the day when his principle contribution to the Fascere Order didn't involve so much folding. Or at least, maybe the folding of paper instead of fabric.
"When do we go?"
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Aug 15, 2009 23:32:33 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Aug 15, 2009 23:32:33 GMT -5
"Well, for the most part, not so much on the fine liquors. I'm sure he's got a few exquisite bottles of wine, but for the most part, this fellow is not the type to host parties," Nopcsa shrugged slightly.
"He's a collector of objects worth more than you or I make in ten years. And I'm guessing his schtick is ownership, not flaunting it."
"Gruntwork is as gruntwork does. I had to spend my first two months here pacing the building and listening for thoughts of employees, and secrets that we could capitalize on. It went pretty well, until I found out about a tryst between one employee and another employee's girlfriend... Needless to say, the guy with a cannon grafted onto his chest came out ahead, and I got moved to covering the other guy's duties-" Nopcsa paused, glancing at the pile of shirts again.
"You do realize that you're getting royalties on this, right?" Nopcsa picked one up, scanning it from edge to edge with a practiced gaze, and then folding it back up again.
"Not that these really are that great of a magical boon. Just some shirts that change color when one's in imminent danger..." He slipped it into his pocket, pushing at one corner that insisted on hanging out.
"Still, you're going to clean house on this one."
"We'll be going, as soon as you're ready, really. Just to the end of the hall, and then we teleport out of here. Somewhere in this guy's neighborhood."
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Aug 18, 2009 10:58:20 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Aug 18, 2009 10:58:20 GMT -5
Terrian noticed Nopcsa's gesture and, with appreciation for the other man's foresight, picked a shirt up as well. He tucked it meticulously into his pocket, taking care to replicate Nopcsa's failure to conceal the fabric completely. This seemed more convenient than frustrating to him.
"Don't care if they pay me," he said, perhaps a little recklessly. "My pleasure. Honestly. I'm ready to go. Too bad about the drinks."
OOC: Yes, even Terrian suffers when I'm too involved in excitedly working out my upcoming RP to actually RP well!
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Aug 18, 2009 11:19:43 GMT -5
Post by ch00beh on Aug 18, 2009 11:19:43 GMT -5
OOC: I read foresight as foreskin.
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Aug 20, 2009 0:02:28 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Aug 20, 2009 0:02:28 GMT -5
OOC: Apologies for the delays, guys.
We'll resume this tomorrow evening, and my post should put us into a situation where BB, at least, can join in. Maybe SV as well, though I think Julia is best left for meeting in the mansion.
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Sept 6, 2009 23:39:27 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 6, 2009 23:39:27 GMT -5
"Then, shall we be on our way?" Nopcsa turned, already knowing Terrian's response, and headed for the door. He started to close it behind him, but noticed Terrian stumping along. He stepped aside, and let his colleague past, before closing it with a slam.
"Really, it's a pretty cool place. Garden the size of a golf course, all fenced in and private. Apparently he gardens it himself, from what the Boss says. All kinds of exotic plants and stuff, and a great big koi pond. Will be a pain in the ass to keep eye over, but I'm sure that you can spare a dozen men to help, right?" Nopcsa glanced to the end of the hallway. It looked like a wall, but that was nothing more than a simple glamour. He reached out, and placed his hand on it.
"Stand back." Nopcsa groped around the wall for a while longer, patting it like he was looking for a missing contact lens. He began sliding his hands up and down, still failing to find it.
"I'm guessing that the sonsabitches changed the door on me..." He muttered, and slid his hand to the opposite side of the wall. His arm did a slight jolt, and then moved as if he was taking hold of something. There was the sound of a doorknob turning, and Nopcsa stepped back, seemingly tugging a door out of the featureless wall. He glanced back over his shoulder, veryifying that Terrian was the only other individual in the hallway, and then stepped through. He waited for Terrian once more, and then closed the door. It vanished into the room's wall, awaiting its next user.
"This is a bit of a company secret, if you will. We like to seem omnipresent, even if our numbers are markedly less." Nopcsa gestured towards the center of the room. Set down into the wooden floor, a jade disc about the size of a café table glimmered with unnatural light.
"It's a portal that drops you to whatever location Auguste pipes in from his desk. He primed it for us, and doesn't want to blow this job, so we'll be fine. But that's not to say that he hasn't set it to 'Marianas Trench' for some jackasses that were stealing the office supplies." Nopcsa patted the pocketed shirt, and winked. The color had remained the same shade of crimson as before.
"Geronimo!" Nopcsa stepped onto the disk, and seemingly fell straight into it. -------- He landed on his hands and knees, in a back alley. It seemed fairly innocuous, with a few empty, dented trash cans towards the front. He could sense a few vague presences about, but none seemed to be observing the area at the moment. Bouncing back to his feet, he waited for Terrian to appear.
Nopcsa threw his hands out, and his head back, breathing deeply of the night air.
"Feels great to be in the contiguous forty eight again, doesn't it?" He exhaled deeply, and resumed normal posture. Once Terrian got his bearings, he strode out of the alleyway confidently.
"In this case, Salt Lake City. We're a block from our client, just around that corner up ahead. Welcome to Planet Mormon." The night was crip, somewhat cooler than it had been in Hawaii, but still warm. Streetlights cast a stark lumination over the city, with a few cars rolling past slowly. The mountains, faintly visible as dark hulks in the distance, seemed to watch the duo as they headed towards their mission.
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Sept 8, 2009 8:44:59 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Sept 8, 2009 8:44:59 GMT -5
OOC: SHIT SALT LAKE CITY SHIT SHIT. And here I thought this RP was kinda losing the horror angle and just turning into a really interesting RP. Man, you got me on that one, Lee. Salt Lake City gives me nightmares.
Terrian regarded the jade disk uneasily. He wasn't in a good state of being for falling through things. Maybe it led down onto a grassy turf, like the guy's front yard. Terrian stepped onto the plate. No. Cement. Terrian fell forward onto his hands, but it didn't feel like he had fallen a great distance.
Terrian looked up and down the tidy street, smiled, chuckled, and then gave forth a low laugh. "Salt Lake City," he said. "Can see why you didn't frontload that info. You know once I was hopping between the coasts on business and I had to overnight in Salt Lake City eight times? Swear to God. I came home saying 'Yeah... Golden plates! Yeah! It's brilliant!'"
He rubbed his jaw; the toothache seemed to be letting up somewhat, but it still hurt to do so much talking at once. He decided not to push his luck, and fell silent as they came to the corner and turned from one row of neat, dark houses onto another.
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Sept 8, 2009 15:36:27 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 8, 2009 15:36:27 GMT -5
OOC: SV, you ready to hop in, or should I carry this another round first?
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SV
Friendliest Member of ALL TIME
The Friendliest Member Of ALL TIME
Posts: 2,250
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Sept 8, 2009 22:52:41 GMT -5
Post by SV on Sept 8, 2009 22:52:41 GMT -5
OOC: Um. Um. I can probably get something in? Probably? If I try? Let me read back over everything and try to put something together.
[EDIT]: The answer is yes.
Somewhere in the mansion, a grandfather clock struck. Then another, and another, until the actual time was lost somewhere in the echoes through the cluttered chateau. Rhys looked up, made to check his watch, and remembered he'd left it in the room he was occupying for the time being.
His appearance here was due to delivery. Someone, somewhere in one of the myriad businesses and institutes with which he was affiliated (however loosely) was supposed to deliver a package of what he understood to be something important, rare, and expensive...and mundane, he supposed, if the number of people who must have dodged the job before it fell into his own lap could be taken as an indication.
But, not in a position to be fiscally selective, Rhys snatched up the job that had been touted as a "paid excursion" to some "remote and interesting locale."
Interesting locale. Rhys snorted, an odd noise in the spacious but cluttered room in which he found himself. Salt Lake City? Closer to a remote and interesting circle of Hell.
The thought of which brought to mind the man whose house he was currently inhabiting. He had shown up the previous afternoon with his burden, a box of a size, shape, and weight vague enough to be just about anything imaginable, wrapped in plain brown shipping paper that made Rhys decide as soon as he recovered it at the airport that it was certainly nothing that warranted the flight out here to hand it over. He had stood out on the front stoop, box in hand, long enough to begin to feel uncomfortable, when the door creaked open, revealing a much shorter woman who he pegged immediately as the housekeeper type. She showed him in, explained to him that she was very sorry, that the master of the estate was elsewhere, that he should like to meet the bearer of his...whatever was in the box.
Rhys declined. His return flight left in the morning and if she could please extend his condolences and let him go check into a hotel, then perhaps that would be alright.
She insisted that he stay in one of the rooms on the estate. She offered him pay and reimbursement for his troubles.
Rhys accepted.
And he was beginning to wonder why.
The room he'd been shown to was somewhere down some corridor that he wasn't entirely sure he remembered how to get to; though roomy enough, it was stuffed with antique furniture of origins he couldn't quite imagine but that were old and exotic enough to make him wary of them.
Presently, he sat in a squat leather chair in one of many rooms he'd seen lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves, drinking something he'd brought with him, reading one of his own folded paperbacks. Rhys had heard one time that affluent people sometimes stocked a library with fake books, made to look like real ones, to line their libraries and appear erudite, well-read. He'd checked. Every book he'd opened was legitimate, most old enough and rare enough to discourage him from looking through them further.
In his seat, Rhys shifted, took a drink from his glass on the table next to him, flicked over a page in his book, sighed. For the next unspecified amount of time, he was being paid to lounge about in this huge, uncomfortable house. He only hoped that something would happen to make the experience more bearable.
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Sept 13, 2009 11:23:08 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 13, 2009 11:23:08 GMT -5
"Oh dear... Terrian, buddy, I sincerely hope that you're not tired of gold, because-" Nopcsa jerked his head to the side, indicating across the street. A large stucco wall that had been occupying the majority of the block cut into a gateway. Two collossal wrought iron gates stood at attention there, each meticulously painted over with gold paint. There was no driveway, not even a dip in the curb to admit cars.
Nopcsa nodded slightly to Terrian, and crossed the road without looking in either direction. As they got closer, they could see that three of the rooms in the house were lit, two on the upper floors, one at ground level. The mindreader continued walking, directly at the gate, and opened before him. Stepping slightly and keeping exact pace with its parting, Nopcsa entered the property.
"Like magic, right?" Nopcsa said with a broad grin.
"Like magic, indeed. It would be folly to expect anything less than that from the Fascere Order," The voice came from the shadows of the walls, quiet but still steadily spoken in a cultured tone. A young woman stepped out from the concealment, closing the panel to control the gates as she did so.
"Welcome to the estate of Master Giguere. We hope that you enjoy your stay, Nopcsa, Terrian." She bowed humbly, and then straightened up, "If you'd just follow me, I'll lead you to the room where his other employees are supposed to meet."
Nopcsa nodded briefly, and then waited for Terrian to catch up. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for Terrian to walk ahead of him. They walked briskly across the lawn, and up to the front entry of the mansion. The building was an impressive hulk of a home, easily the size of a supermarket or lesser mall. It, much like the front gates, had a similar render covering, but with elaborate designs etched into almost every inch. Towards the edges, it frayed into elegant gothic designs, but as it neared the center, above the doorway, they seemed to weave together into a very distinctive form.
Taking the shape of a noble dragon, leering down at the front step, it had two rounded windows in the place of eyes. The shadows of night seemed to cast a disapproving air to the beast's visage.
"It's quite a manor, once you become used to its eccentricities... He paid all manner of artisans from around the countryside to come in and help decorate, so as you'd assume, a considerable ammount of the furnishings have details and intricacies beyond the pale of what you'd see even in the finest museums," The woman produced a key with a luminous red gem set into it, and used it to unlock the door with a swift, practiced motion. Yet again, Nopcsa hung back, shooing Terrian along ahead of him.
The hallway they entered instantly illuminated itself. Fixtures, taking the form of antique lanterns despite the modern spirals of compact fluorescent bulbs obvious within them, lit the area with a soft, steady glow. The carpet was golden and thick, with elaborate designs spiralling and dancing about eachother. The walls themselves were fairly drab, a light shade of tan bordering on beige, but it seemed there was hardly space at head level for all of the paintings the man had accrued.
Each one seemed to have an obvious common theme, obviously betraying a bit of an obsession on the part of the owner. Dragons, dragons, and more dragons. Sometimes in flight, sometimes nesting, sometimes being slain, sometimes devouring unfortunate victims. At a glance back to the carpet, the patterns seemed sinous, almost like the coils of some manner of serpent.
The woman walked over to a small panel discretely set to the side, and began working with it to punch in a certain set of commands. Nopcsa stepped around Terrian, keeping himself distant from her. He placed a hand firmly on Terrian's shoulder, and leaned in close to his ear.
"I can't read her at all. You know, thoughts, that is. I don't know exactly what her deal is, but-"
"Would all people aiding in guarding the premises please report to the main dining room? I repeat, would all people aiding in the guarding of the premises please report to the main dining room?" The woman's voice came from all sides, just loud enough to be unpleasant, and echoing from seemingly every room in the building. She removed her finger from the intercom button, and moved back in front of the group. Nopcsa faded away from Terrian, still staying behind his teammate. In just a little bit, they'd be finding out who else was on the case with them.
OOC: There, gave an opening to all of you folk that haven't introduced yourselves yet. BB, if you don't show up soon, the plot train may move without you.
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Sept 13, 2009 23:27:44 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Sept 13, 2009 23:27:44 GMT -5
Did you know there'd be other people on duty? Terrian thought loudly, under some vaguely-defined assumption that Nopcsa would pick this up.
He looked over the paintings. Most of them he dismissed as pop art junk, but there was one old-looking Chinese paper work that he kept looking back at. A long, coiling form with black and white scales and flaming whiskers was descending against a sky patched with red and gray. The palette was so limited that Terrian supposed what had caught his attention were the two points of yellow, a color otherwise absent from the painting: the dragon's empty eyes.
Terrian clasped his hands behind his back, twisting fingers over thumbs, and looked away toward the reassuring triteness of the great bat-winged Western dragons with smoking nostrils and eyes ablaze.
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SV
Friendliest Member of ALL TIME
The Friendliest Member Of ALL TIME
Posts: 2,250
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Sept 14, 2009 0:33:43 GMT -5
Post by SV on Sept 14, 2009 0:33:43 GMT -5
Rhys looked up, befuddled. The voice on the intercom was that of the woman who showed him in earlier this day, but he had no idea what she meant by people "involved with the guarding of the premises." He'd been in this house since early afternoon -- at least four hours, but probably closer to six -- and hadn't seen anyone, though more than once he thought he'd heard voices that he couldn't locate in the labyrinthine mansion, and he'd thought it better to ignore them as his imagination.
But people were people, and the more time he spent in this place the more uncomfortable he became. He vaguely remembered having passed through a dining room earlier in the day that he might be able to find his way back to. Besides, he wanted to find out what this "guarding" was about.
He stood, placing his book and drink on the table beside him. They would still be there when he got back.
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Sept 16, 2009 1:44:07 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 16, 2009 1:44:07 GMT -5
"You know, I have to say I didn't quite catch that- Your name, I mean, Miss-" Nopcsa said, bowing his head ever-so-slightly towards the guide.
"Ruth Mayor. Groundskeeper, greeter, and general attendant for Master Giguere," She stated with a calm professionalism, and began to walk past the Fascere operatives.
"Nopcsa, and Terrian Brogue. You already should know our afiliation," Nopcsa stepped up ahead of her, politely but firmly cutting off the rest of the hall from her path. Smiling subtley, he took hold of one of her hands, "Pleased to meet you."
He held on for a moment, and then let go. The hand he had taken hold of didn't feel right. It was dry and calloused, sturdy, with a lingering heat. Almost like shaking with a blacksmith still wearing his gloves. Compared to the appearance of fine, graceful fingers, it came as a shock.
"By the way, Ruth, if you'd like some help preparing the meal for tonight, I'd gladly help." Nopcsa sidestepped a table that projected unusually far into the hallway, carefully avoiding his shirt getting snagged on a statue of a rampaging dragon.
"Not that I'm good with main courses or anything, but if you could go and get the masher for me, I'd be able to whip up some ungodly mashed potatoes." Nopcsa turned, clearly nodding towards Terrian.
"Just get the masher ready, in case help's needed, y'know? I like cooking, after all."
OOC: Third time I've written this post, and by far the worst. Oh well. Anywho, one or two more rounds, and we come together.
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Sept 17, 2009 23:33:48 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Sept 17, 2009 23:33:48 GMT -5
"Oh man, no way, Nopcsa, don't make your mashed potatoes. You know I need like six servings of those, and I'm still pretty full from lunch," Terrian said. He made a show of patting his chest to demonstrate this last point. To be honest he actually patted an area just above his chest and to the left. There was resistance from a metallic object within the inner pocket of his jacket where his hand came down.
"Well, all the same. Pleasure to make your etc., Ruth." Terrian grinned as he reached out to take her hand. Oh. He dropped eye contact with her for an instant. No, she wasn't wearing any gloves. He hadn't thought so. Strange.
To cover his surprise, he quickly added, "I really like your name, by the way. I've met too many weirdos with bizarre names lately. Like this guy. 'Nopcsa', what is that? Sounds like someone Horis and Thoth would have hung out with back in old country..."
He laughed and nudged Nopcsa's shoulder. This was all a special social maneuver, Terrian Brogue Tactic No. 5 or 6 or something. Show more ease and self-assurance than you actually felt. Not only did it put the target off-guard, but honestly, there was something psychologically empowering about acting so. A comfort. Terrian was not yet ready to let his own defenses down in this shrine of a hallway. He'd need to meet Master Giguere first.
There was a name more in keeping with Terrian's expectations.
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Sept 20, 2009 19:31:49 GMT -5
Post by ch00beh on Sept 20, 2009 19:31:49 GMT -5
"I don't like the feel of this place."
"We're about 80% sure that there's a paranormal artifact in this house. Probably more. I'd be worried if you didn't have a bad feeling, Charlie."
"Yeah, I guess so," Charlie said. "Still."
Julia turned away from the window and looked at Charlie. He was sitting on the luxuriously dressed bed, cleaning rod in one hand, and a piece of his pistol in the other. He was looking up anxiously at the doctor. No, not anxiety. Concern.
"We'll be fine," Julia said. She smiled at him then turned back to the window, just surveying the world outside. After all, she was technically supposed to be in the mansion as a bodyguard. She could at least pretend she was trying to protect the owner of the estate. Charlie was doing a good job at looking the part, but then again, he was an official combat-trained agent.
Suddenly a voice sounded from an upward direction. Both Julia and Charlie looked up instinctively, as if looking for the person speaking. "Would all people aiding in guarding the premises please report to the main dining room? I repeat, would all people aiding in the guarding of the premises please report to the main dining room?"
"We've already been briefed. Do we really need to be there?" Charlie said.
"I'm actually curious to see who else was hired," Julia replied.
"Well then are you fine going alone? I'm not quite done here."
"Yes. Ruth already showed us around." With that, Julia turned around and made her way to the door. She grabbed her purse off the bed while she passed then stepped out, closing the door lightly behind her. She looked around at the ornately, if not gaudily, furnished hallway to get her bearings before heading straight for the dining room.
After a minute or so of walking, she found herself in the dining room. No one was around yet, so she simply took a seat, putting her purse on the table as she did. She pulled out some papers to read through while she waited.
OOC: Urg, crappy.
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Oct 19, 2009 22:19:47 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Oct 19, 2009 22:19:47 GMT -5
A petite girl, barely five feet tall, entered the room from one of its other, myriad entrances. She stepped around the stately door, catching it with one fingertip to keep it from crushing into a cabinet full of china. She twitched the finger, and the door slammed shut. The panes of glass set in it rattled, and two pieces of dragon emblazoned pottery fell askew on their stands.
"So, I'm guessing that you two are supposed to be guarding the joint as well?" The girl jumped from a flatfooted stand, clearing the back of a chair, and sliding into her seat. She threw her elbows forwards on the table. The fine fabric of the tablecloth bunched up at her spot. A candelabra teetered precariously, a few waxy drops spattering the immaculate surface.
"Call me Achenes. No need for my last name."
"But really, Ms. Har-" Nopcsa, just entering the room, was thrown up against the wall. Achenes had his throat clenched tightly in her left hand, her right drawn back and ready to strike.
"How do you know?" She tightened her grip.
"I-" Nopcsa tensed the muscles in his neck, trying to loosen her grip. She remained attached, her fingers causing white marks on the side of his throat.
"Achenes, please let go of him. Master Giguere wouldn't like having one of his defenders killed by another. One could say that it's the last thing we could possibly need at the time." Ruth's tone was stern, but it seemed somewhat hollow, as if she herself could care less about her master's whims.
"I usually say, Charity first, Self last. That's the main policy of my school, after all. But that's not the case here. If he knows my last name, it means he has to have had something to do with-"
"Mindreading. That's why he's here. A mindreader, so he can tell the master if any of his guards are planning on turning against him." Ruth smiled slightly, despite the fact that Nopcsa was desperately flailing away not five feet from her.
Achenes glared at the maid, Nopcsa, and then stepped back, dropping the young man to his knees. He began gasping for breath, his shoulders rising and falling with each ragged choke.
"If you use my last name again, I'll break your jaw in three places. It's Achenes. Just that. Nothing else."
"Nothng-" Nopcsa inhaled again, some of the color returning to his face, "Nothing elss."
"Good."
"Are you all going to be at eachother's throats? If so, Master Giguere will be extremely disappointed in you. He went out of his way to hire the best he could find, to ask for aid from those he knew had reputations for consistency and expertise. Any more conflict between you, and I'd be forced to assume that he had made an error in his judgement. That doesn't happen."
"Sorry, miss. We'll behave better, right, Terrian?" Nopcsa clapped Terrian on the back heartily, his other hand still massaging where Achenes had seized him.
"I don't like who you picked. I'll make that clear right now. But I'll do my best not to injure either of them, unless they try to hurt me or whatever." Achenes slouched back into her seat, sliding into place.
"So..." Ruth stalked around the table, and pulled out a majestic chair, cushioned in crimson velvet, and with gold details playing along its elaborately carved wood. She let her hands slide along the arms, caressing them with familiar care, and then turned, taking a seat. She slid it forwards gently, and then looked up to the various people gathered about the dining room.
"So, any questions?"
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EMET
Oct 20, 2009 0:20:04 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Oct 20, 2009 0:20:04 GMT -5
Terrian raised a hand. "Yeah, Ruth, I've got one," he said. "I think what I can probably do for you best is set up a patrol system, am I right? Cover the perimeter, establish surveillance stations, put together an emergency response unit..." By this point he was essentially just throwing in every security term he could think of. "Safety in numbers, yeah? So before I go putting my foot in my mouth the way we misguided souls so often do--" (he nodded to Nopcsa) "--I'd like to know if there are any areas of the building or grounds that are off-limits. I'm sure I'm not the only one who'd benefit from some insight as far as that goes."
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SV
Friendliest Member of ALL TIME
The Friendliest Member Of ALL TIME
Posts: 2,250
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EMET
Oct 22, 2009 22:29:51 GMT -5
Post by SV on Oct 22, 2009 22:29:51 GMT -5
Rhys entered the dining room just in time to see a rather flamboyant young man thrown against the heavily ornamented wall behind him by a tiny slip of a girl who hardly looked capable. He hesitated outside the archway at the back of the room, surveying its occupants.
In addition to the man being harassed by the belligerent redheaded girl, he recognized the young woman at the other end of the room, Ruth, as the one who admitted him to the house earlier that afternoon. Another young woman, this one quite attractive, observed the scuffle from the other side of the table; opposite her, across the room, stood a dashing young gentleman who, judging by the look of concern, was affiliated with the one against the wall.
Ruth, from the head of the table, addressed the girl sternly, and the altercation dissolved as rapidly as it had developed. Hands in his pockets, Rhys leaned against the doorframe and waited to hear what was going on.
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Oct 27, 2009 23:42:41 GMT -5
Post by ch00beh on Oct 27, 2009 23:42:41 GMT -5
Julia looked over the other guards as they filed in, attempting to assess their personalities and abilities. Her face, of course, didn't show scrutiny; instead she smiled in greeting to each of the other guests as they made their way in.
The first to enter, the small girl Achenes, made it clear what her specialization was: pure brute strength. It wasn't obvious whether or not she was fully in control of it; slamming the door with a twitch seemed like a mistake. However, jumping into a chair and then slamming one of the other guards against the wall revealed that she was one for showing off and having a violent temper. So she probably was in control.
The one who had been attacked, the mind-reader Nopcsa, had a touch of arrogance. Being nearly omnipotent would do that. Julia took note to watch her thoughts. She wouldn't want certain facts to surface.
A dashing young man had entered with the mind-reader. Nopcsa said the name Terrian, though the man never formally introduced himself to the group. Judging from the similarity in clothing, they worked together. Terrian was no expert in guard work, but did seem to be a master of using a lot of words to say absolutely nothing. Since he worked with a mind-reader, Julia figured he was probably a Power as well.
The last to enter was a quiet one. His posture and casual indifference to the fight showed that he was used to things like this happening. Despite the lean, he seemed attentive.
One last person quickly burst into the room, opening the closed door sharply. Charlie had a hand on his belt, right above his gun holster, ready to pull it out.
"Hey, I heard some banging. Everything all right here?"
"Yes, everything seems to be alright now," Julia said. Charlie relaxed somewhat at the sound of her reassurance.
Julia then turned to address Ruth. "I take it that our job is to do more than house sit, since this is a fairly specialized team. Is there anything special we need to know about what kind of people would try to get in? I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask what potential thugs would be after in here, but you'll probably say that it's a secret."
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EMET
Nov 10, 2009 2:28:41 GMT -5
Post by Tout-Perd on Nov 10, 2009 2:28:41 GMT -5
"Of course, Mr. Brogue. You and Nopcsa were picked for this, no? I believe that Master Giguere and Mr. Tylor collaborated on the selection. You were intended to provide reliable personel to keep the perimeter safe, while Nopcsa was supposed to stay near the Master's quarters and use his talents to ensure that no individuals could sneak by." Ruth glanced from face to face, making sure that each of the defenders comprehended what she had said.
"Which brings us to the answer to your question, Mr. Brogue. Yes, there are off limits areas. The basement is locked for a reason, it being where the Master stores his most valuable artifacts. There is little reason for him to worry about it, anyways. It's been properly warded by various sorceries and abjurations, so virtually nothing could force an entry through there and live." Ruth wet her lips, running an unusually large and pointed tongue along them. It wasn't to the point of freakishness, but it was still disconcerting.
"There is one other room that is not to be enterred. The master's private bedroom and water closet are off limits, totally. You can not enter those rooms, no matter what happens. He's already had his room heavily enchanted, and it would likely immediately disintegrate any non-authorized individual."
"Oh goody. Please tell me you put at least some placard or something, marking his door? Because I don't want to go looking for the bathroom and end up a pile of carpet sweepings," Achenes threw herself forwards, bracing her elbows on the table.
"You should know it already. It overlooks the front lawn. And the sole door leading into it is plated with gold leaf and accentuated with large rubies. I doubt that you could miss details like that."
"Just keep the hall light on, okay?" Nopcsa added, catching a glance from Achenes.
It was at that point that Charlie burst into the room. Nopcsa threw his hands in the air, though he remained stock still otherwise. Achenes didn't react physically, or so it seemed at first. With closer inspection, it was evident that her eyes were focused directly on the man's grip on the gun. They flicked to his eyes once, and then went back to regarding the weapon.
"Glad that your aid could join us, Ms. Romanesco. Have a seat, Mr. Andrews." Ruth kept her expression fairly still, not having wavered much in it since Achenes' outburst earlier.
"Just a slight disturbance. A conflict in backgrounds, if you will-"
"You could call it that," Nopcsa wheezed, pointing to the handprint on his throat. It was now a painful shade of red.
"But yes, your job is not just to guard the house, but the Master as well-" Ruth turned to face Nopcsa.
"Do you sense any presences in here that would be hostile towards the Master?"
Nopcsa took on a concerned expression, and closed his eyes. He knew he could skip over himself and Terrian, but the others... Tricky business, finding one facet of a mind without digging too deep. Achenes checked out, as did Rhys and Charlie. The woman, though... There were bits and pieces of thoughts, almost visible, but repressed, hidden, locked away. It was like gazing into a labyrinth, and hoping to find a single detail.
Her surface thoughts however, seemed to be fine. He'd just need to take a chance on that one.
"Nobody here wants to harm him."
"Good." Ruth answered, but it wasn't her voice. It was a suave, deep voice, rough around the edges. Like a man that had been smoking for a few years. She raised her hands before her, and slid one pair of fingers along another. A moment later, she had a ring in her palm.
And directly after that, Ruth was gone. It her place, a lean gentleman sat. His skin had a golden tone to it, and he had neatly trimmed blonde hair with a matching mustache. His age was indeterminate, anywhere between twenty and forty five, presumably. He was wearing a red silk suit, with a white dress shirt peaking out from beneath it.
"Master Giguere, I'm guessing?" Nopcsa offered, without missing a beat.
"Of course. But you all can call me Orville. That'd do just fine for now." He gave a winning smile, exposing somewhat pointed, incredibly white teeth.
"And I'll answer your question in a moment, Ms. Romanesco. But I do believe that such matters would be best discussed over a hearty dinner, no?"
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Nov 11, 2009 0:44:13 GMT -5
Post by Beelzebibble on Nov 11, 2009 0:44:13 GMT -5
Terrian's posture was in a strange state for a few moments. He had responded to the abrupt arrival of the armed man, Mr. Andrews, by beginning to rise out of his chair with every intention to throw himself behind it if the man pulled out his gun. Then Andrews had spoken to the woman, Ms. Romanesco, and Terrian had stopped halfway through standing up. He had been making to sit back down again, but had stopped halfway through that when Ruth Mayor had tragically ceased to be and Orville Giguere had made his entrance. All of this precarious teetering up and down was doing a number on Terrian's knees, so that he was happy to stand up in full when Giguere mentioned dinner. It finally seemed as though Terrian had gotten his physical situation resolved to everyone's satisfaction, which was why he was so surprised when, immediately afterward, a sudden aching pain throbbed briefly through all of his muscles at once, and then was gone.
He saw Nopcsa's eyes flicker toward his; the mindreader had evidently noticed. Terrian quickly moved his smile on over to Master Giguere while mentally messaging all his outside duplicates: Someone just get electrocuted?
But of the responses that came in, none reported any injury just then... If a duplicate had just died, Terrian thought it was awfully anticlimactic. More likely, it seemed, that for the first time all day, that pain had actually been his own.
Well. Hadn't lasted, that much was certain. So what could a guy do. Pretty much just cram it into the "unexplained phenomena" folder and move on. That was getting to be the heftiest folder in the filing cabinet of Terrian's brain, but at least it was bigger than the adjacent folder, "unexplained phenomena that'll probably kill me".
To Giguere, he said, "Such matters, and in fact all matters, don't you think? I wish there were enough hearty dinners in the world to cover them all."
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