Mortal Thread - A Roleplay

[Fallapede]

Thalise eyed the money, taking out a small file and using it to check the composition, then stowed it away.

"That'll do fine for the moment. As I said, I don't have as much info as I'd like, but there are a few interesting tidbits that might be useful. First of all, there's no way the Wraith is actually going after Thread. The houses hit are understandably cagey about the exact amount stolen, but even a vague estimate tells me that it's a pitiful amount compared to their supply. If whoever it is had gotten spooked and run off with what they could grab, that would be one thing, but it seems like no one even noticed the thefts until well after the culprit had left. The Wraith had plenty of time on their hands within the compound, and I'm highly doubtful much of it was spent on the actual theft. I apologize for not being better informed this time around, but my idle speculation is that the actual goal was intel on those houses' operations, and that the theft itself is a coverup by both the thief and the marks to respectively cover their tracks and take eyes off something shady."

Thalise rattled off the information with a bored tone, but there was clearly interest, or at least avarice, in her eyes.

"The dead crime lord is harder to pick apart the reasoning for. The goal may simply have been the chaos it's caused, which is sure to have a destabilizing effect on the Thread market. Or there may be some personal connection. I'll leave that to the side for the moment, since I don't believe it's your main interest."

She pulled out a small envelope from inside one of her gloves and slid it over to the other woman.

"I know I said the amount of Thread was a pittance, but it's still a large enough amount that it would hard to use or sell without attracting notice. That's a list of Tailors, both sanctioned and Underground, that I think are likely to have had either a fencing or a suspicious appointment. If it has been sold, I'd expect that the goods have been broken up among several places in order to avoid suspicion. The possibility does remain that this thief is doing their own Tailoring, which will make it much harder to find a lead, but it should still be worth looking. Do you have any questions?"

@ZincAboutIt

Edited October 24, 2021 by Fallapede

[+Sorana she/her]

Bree took another sip of her drink, not leaving her spot. She had a very nice view over both, the crowd and the fights. Right now a small, thin guy was beating up a thick, strong looking younger man. The smaller one was obviously tailored. Narrowing her eyes in interest she tried to figure out how and what. His arms, most likely his legs, too.

Pensively she pursed her lips and continued to watch, curious to see how it would end and if he'd show something fascinating. Only a few heartbeats later the thin one raised his arms in victory only to be taken down by his opponent as soon as he'd turned his back. Sighing she turned away and took another sip of her drink. The best Tailoring was useless without a brain to use them. It was time to get to business.

Using her left hand to flash a signal to those looking for a tailor to sell their wares to, or to teach those that might be interested in her skills. Although especially the last group often didn't knew these. Slowly she wandered through the crowd, kept her eyes open and searched for someone to bridge some time with. Her eyes fell on a brown haired person and she nodded to herself. The posture, the cloths, her was someone who seemed to have enough in their head to warrant a conversation.

"Hello." She voiced her greeting with a carefully formed smile, but didn't extend her hand.  She disliked to touch strangers. "Having a nice evening?" The question was mostly to offer some start of a conversation, she would watch their reaction and then adapt her behaviour accordingly. Discreetly her left hand repeated her sign and she touched her drink to her lips, careful to keep her posture relaxed. With some luck this would be not only a lucrative, but also an interesting evening.

Behind her the body of the thin man was removed from the pit and the next pair was announced. Not even the names of the fighters sounded promising. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and pushed the noise to the back of her attention. Later. Maybe she would take another look later.

@Channelknight Fadran

[Channelknight Fadran]

Kleisha turned around, a little confused. "Uhm... yeah."

[Mystic Syn she/her]

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Would it be too late to join? I don’t think I can create a character right now, but I want to in the near future when I’m not dying of a cold.

 

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

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Yes, both of you can join later. Ideally this will be a plot that people can join throughout the RP. Would you like to be in the PM

@The Ward's Guard @Mystic Syn

[Mystic Syn she/her]

6 minutes ago, ZincAboutIt said:

@The Ward's Guard @Mystic Syn

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Joining the pm would be much appreciated.

 

[Rushu42 she/her]

Teresa tripped along the damp streets of the undercity, wishing she had brought an umbrella. She hadn't expected to need one - the whole street was underground, right? As it turned out, the rain had just mixed with the dirt on the upper streets before leaking down below, meaning that the liquid now staining her sweater wasn't water so much as mud. Or worse. She tried not to think about it.

The people she passed didn't seem to mind - but then, they also didn't seem to mind the stench, or the fact that the only light down here spilled from the occasional uncovered window. She tried not to make eye contact with anyone, in case they could read nervousness in her expression. Was she walking too fast? Too slowly? Was anyone following her? Wait, shoot - that alley she just passed was where she was supposed to turn. Turning around for no reason would be suspicious for sure. Maybe she should just circle the block and try again.

She ducked into the alley a few minutes later, slightly out of breath. A human-shaped figure stepped out from behind a dumpster, features obscured in the darkness. "Can I help you?"

"Um, yes," she said. At least here she actually knew what to do; she'd made flashcards for all the little codes and passwords Channing had told her. If there was one thing that Teresa had learned in med school, it was how to study for a test. "I'd like your latest vintage, please." She smiled at the figure, then instantly regretted it. One wasn't supposed to smile while sneaking to the criminal underground for a clandestine meeting.

"And would you like that in a bottle or a glass?" returned the the bouncer easily. 

"I'll just have to see which one breaks first," she finished, and the figure nodded. She pressed a handful of money into their outstretched hand, and slipped through the open door.

The wave of sound hit her like a physical force as she started down the stairs. Tuneless music thrummed against her eardrums as neon lights flickered overhead, as if she'd stepped into a textbook entry for reflex epilepsy triggers. A shout went up from one corner, and she looked over in time to see a large man - clearly Tailored - twisting his opponent's arm back with a brutal snap. She looked away, feeling queasy. A few people were holding drinks, she noticed, so there had to be a bar somewhere in all the commotion. Maybe she'd be able to sit down somewhere out of the way and wait for her contact to find her. 

There was an open barstool near the corner, and she gingerly clambered onto it, hoping it wouldn't collapse on her. The barkeep slid a drink towards her without waiting for an order, so she dropped what she hoped was a reasonable number of bills on the table and picked it up. A quick sniff made her eyes water, and she set it back down on the table. She had no intention of getting drunk tonight, and certainly not off of that. It smelled more like rubbing alcohol than any of the drinks she'd tried before. Instead she took a deep breath and tried to adopt a cheerful expression. At least no one had tried to kill her yet; she'd count that as a success.

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Anyone's welcome to have their character interact with Teresa, whether you want to be the contact she's meeting or not.

 

Edited October 24, 2021 by Rushu42
Every time I look back at this post I notice a word I left out somewhere

[Channelknight Fadran]

Kleisha gave the newcomer a sidways glance. "You look new here."

A number of other people did, too, but this one seemed new even to the dirtier alleyways of Lere. Maybe she wasn't as good at reading people as most of the folks down here, but Kleisha could tell from their eyes that this wasn't a place they were used to.

@Rushu42

Edited October 24, 2021 by Channelknight Fadran

[+Sorana she/her]

1 hour ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Kleisha gave the newcomer a sidways glance. "You look new here."

A number of other people did, too, but this one seemed new even to the dirtier alleyways of Lere. Maybe she wasn't as good at reading people as most of the folks down here, but Kleisha could tell from their eyes that this wasn't a place they were used to.

@Rushu42

 

16 hours ago, Rushu42 said:

There was an open barstool near the corner, and she gingerly clambered onto it, hoping it wouldn't collapse on her. The barkeep slid a drink towards her without waiting for an order, so she dropped what she hoped was a reasonable number of bills on the table and picked it up. A quick sniff made her eyes water, and she set it back down on the table. She had no intention of getting drunk tonight, and certainly not off of that. It smelled more like rubbing alcohol than any of the drinks she'd tried before. Instead she took a deep breath and tried to adopt a cheerful expression. At least no one had tried to kill her yet; she'd count that as a success.

Interesing. Bree tilted her head a little to the side, suspecting, that the one in front of her had no real intention to really talk to her. Not that she cared, but - she smiled again more earnest this time. Everything before a but was a lie. She hated it, when people ignored her, especially after she made the effort to reach out to them. Wamrth spread in her gut as she realized that this was good, finally something interesting, something worth spending her time for.

But for now, she kept her posture relaxed and followed the other one's eyes towards the newcomer. Obviously a newcomer. "You ordered the wrong drink." she noted and shook her head, lifting a hand with her own, bright green one. "That one is much better. Slightly sour and a little bit sweet, and you can easily smell it without having to close your eyes afterwards."

Stepping towards her, she leaned herself against the bar, turning around so that she could see both of them. "But I think we're not at a point in conversation, where you talk about drinks, aren't we?" she stated and rested one ellbow on the bar. "My name's Bree." she offered her name as was custom. It was better to stick to customs and social rules. It made blending in easier. Brianna, Brianna had been incredibly good at these situations. She had been amazing with people, smiling and convincing them with a few words only. Bree still found it fascinating how much time those around her spent with nothing but politenesses, but in the end she didn't really care. As long as she got to work, so that she could finance her other Tailoring, so long she didn't care if it took some small talk to arrive at her goal.

"And don't worry," she added with a wink, "I can tell you a lot about the different drinks down here."

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

On 10/23/2021 at 10:59 AM, Fallapede said:

Do you have any questions?"

Stasia quickly palmed the envelope and slid it up her sleeve, intending to read it somewhere a bit more secluded before memorizing and burning it. Thalise’s guessing was unsettlingly close to Kurt’s own hypothesis: this wasn’t about the Thread. At least, not entirely. The Wraith had spent nearly two hours inside Lattice and Lattice, and had made off with only one hundred yards of Thread - maybe ten spools worth. But he could have taken ten times that amount if he really wanted to. 

She thought about the other Houses that had been hit: Chetting and Wells, Krasmov Brothers, Settingston Trust. Big names with big databases. And those are just the ones that have admitted to being hit.

There was a possibility of something far more disturbing than a renegade robbing Thread. What if the real target had been information? Kurt had been very sparse on his details about her mission, “for her own safety.” Not least because technically she was legally forbidden to investigate based on her own conflict of interest. But he’d let something slip, and Stasia decided to go on a hunch.

”What can you tell me about the Fidelium?”

This was dangerous territory now, even for someone who was used to sticking their hands into murky waters. The Fidelium was the STA’s own personal House, home to the government’s most confidential files on everything from the nobility’s inheritance records to who, where and when Tailored agents were sent out on mission to the Far Corners. 
 

On the night of the Wraith’s latest heist, there had been a general alarm sounded at the Fidelium - though it was later pronounced a false alarm and any rumors quickly ground out. No one from the STA had reported any foul play at the Fidelium. But then again, they wouldn’t. If the Wraith had managed to get inside the Fidelium itself… Well. No wonder all the House higher-ups were so nervous.

[Channelknight Fadran]

40 minutes ago, Sorana said:

Interesing. Bree tilted her head a little to the side, suspecting, that the one in front of her had no real intention to really talk to her. Not that she cared, but - she smiled again more earnest this time. Everything before a but was a lie. She hated it, when people ignored her, especially after she made the effort to reach out to them. Wamrth spread in her gut as she realized that this was good, finally something interesting, something worth spending her time for.

But for now, she kept her posture relaxed and followed the other one's eyes towards the newcomer. Obviously a newcomer. "You ordered the wrong drink." she noted and shook her head, lifting a hand with her own, bright green one. "That one is much better. Slightly sour and a little bit sweet, and you can easily smell it without having to close your eyes afterwards."

Stepping towards her, she leaned herself against the bar, turning around so that she could see both of them. "But I think we're not at a point in conversation, where you talk about drinks, aren't we?" she stated and rested one ellbow on the bar. "My name's Bree." she offered her name as was custom. It was better to stick to customs and social rules. It made blending in easier. Brianna, Brianna had been incredibly good at these situations. She had been amazing with people, smiling and convincing them with a few words only. Bree still found it fascinating how much time those around her spent with nothing but politenesses, but in the end she didn't really care. As long as she got to work, so that she could finance her other Tailoring, so long she didn't care if it took some small talk to arrive at her goal.

"And don't worry," she added with a wink, "I can tell you a lot about the different drinks down here."

Kleisha turned her head to this... other person. They looked like they'd been here a number of times, but she didn't recognize them at all. They were probably a recent regular or something.

Or maybe she was just overthinking everything.

"You a fighter at all?" Kleisha asked, nodding at the ring. It wasn't a question she could ask anywhere else without getting strange glances, but down here it was an easy enough way to gauge why someone might be here.

[The Unknown Medallion he/him]

On 10/23/2021 at 11:11 AM, ZincAboutIt said:

No one was moronic enough to walk around actually carrying Thread, especially in a place like this. Kurt had already arranged it at a small post box office in a residential district up in New Lere proper. 

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Well, technically Tainor is, but it would be very hard to steal it from him.

Tainor spotted the smuggler sign, so he walked over only to find the person was already occupied. But none of them looked like smugglers, and when Tainor heard the question, "You a fighter?" He saw an opportunity. He stepped forward. "I am, from time to time, I've since turned towards other things, but good pay and a... favor could get me to fight. And joining in on that favor could get a person some Thread, free of charge." He looked at Bree.

@Channelknight Fadran @Sorana

Edited October 24, 2021 by The Unknown Order

[Channelknight Fadran]

Kleisha only snorted. Clearly this one was a fighter.

[Rushu42 she/her]

Teresa looked between her conversation partners, stammering slightly. Channing had warner her not to put on any kind of front. "They'll see through any attempts at lying in a heartbeat," the gang leader had said with a smirk. "So don't try any tricks. But you may be able to use your inexperience to your advantage, in a way. There will be those that see your naivete and assume that you must be faking; after all, no gang leader would employ someone who was actually that incompetent at spycraft. And when they cannot pierce your disguise or figure out what it is that you're hiding, they will be wary of trifling with you, for fear that they'd be interfering with something that they do not understand."

Teresa found a number of flaws in this reasoning. Wouldn't they just see her as an easy target or something? But it's not like she had a better plan. So she just smiled and said, "It's true, the bars of my hometown were a bit quieter. I'll have to try that drink," and hoped that the approach of someone else would distract people from pressing for details.

@Sorana @Channelknight Fadran @The Unknown Order

 

 

[Channelknight Fadran]

"You looking for anyone?" Kleisha asked, swishing her drink. This newcomer isn't here on free time. "Patron? Client? I know the people here pretty well."

[Fallapede]

"This is going to cost you extra. It took me weeks of digging to uncover anything about that incident, but it definitely wasn't a false alarm. I don't know exactly what happened that night, save that the Wraith definitely didn't get in the building and that there's a missing guard. I only found out about it at all when I was looking through the guard roster on another matter and noticed a name change. I went back through the records I have, and the missing man was definitely posted that night. I've been trying to track him down since, but odds are he's dead and all I have to go on is the name: Varsh Licti. My guess is there was a scuffle and he was killed by the Wraith, and the STA has the body stashed somewhere. I can't back that up, though. For all I know he and the Wraith are one and the same. Either way, it'll be a while before there's another attempt."

Thalise stretched, flexing her fingers, and signaled to the barkeep.

"Do you have any new work for me? If not, I do have other clients to attend to tonight."

@ZincAboutIt

Edited October 24, 2021 by Fallapede

[The Ward's Guard he/him]

On 10/23/2021 at 3:34 PM, ZincAboutIt said:

@The Ward's Guard @Mystic Syn

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Yes please

 

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Stasia tapped two fingers on the tabletop and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. She smiled at the blunt dismissal. That was one thing she liked about free-lancers: they didn’t waste time.

“Understood about the fee increase. It will be added to your Thread count. Keep your ear to the ground with any further regards to the Fidelium incident. You know the arrangement - if someone is offering you money for information, we’ll incentivize you to offer it to us first. If we have any more need of you, you’ll hear from my handler.”

Stasia stood and placed a few more bills on the table before melting back into the crowd with a wink. “The next drink’s on the House.”

@Fallapede

[Mystic Syn she/her]

Haruh Arcangelo passed through the hallways of her family small gang’s––the Arcangelos––home base. She scratched her arms, which bore many scars that stretched all the way to her back, even having a few on her face. Her dark, curly, shoulder-length brown hair bounced whenever she took a step, but Haruh never cared to pull it out of her face, because she was never told to. Her grungy tank top had seen better days, so have her cargo pants and boots, but she wasn’t given anything else to wear, not that she would wear them. She would never dare to wear anything that she wasn’t told to wear.

She didn’t look up at anyone that passed by her, staring at the ground as she weaved through the small amounts of people and guards throughout the hallways. Though she was a part of the family that ran the gang, Haruh wasn’t treated as so; sure, her older brother and sister were treated like the respected leaders and like they were actually a part of the family, but she wasn’t. And she had grown to accept that. Haruh knew that if she were to complain or say something otherwise about her place in the Arcangelos, punishment would follow. Many times had she received it, and every time she learned her lesson and grew to be apathetic and only do what her mother and father asked of her.

Climbing the creaky stairs and taking a right down a long hallway, Haruh came up to the door to her parents’ office. She glanced up at the two guards, who regarded her with a small nod, then opened the door without saying anything to her. She took a step in, heard the door close behind her as she clasped her hands behind her back, and waited for her parent’s instructions.

The only other person in the room was Katyn Arcangelo: Haruh’s mother. She flipped through the pages of a small book, sitting at the desk alone. She wore her usual dark purple suit with rose gold glasses, looking as high of class as ever. Her medium-length curly hair was pulled back into a tail, out of the way of her face so she could read. She didn’t care to notice Haruh standing in the doorway, but was intensely focused on the words. Books littered her desk, with the occasional tablet or screen here and there to search up any sources about what she read. Haruh knew the books had come from the bookshelves around the office both her mother and father shared; though, she was not taught to care about what information it held. Her mother had made it clear to her––many times––that she was not the person for the job to learn that information, and if she were to protest, punishment would follow.

Haruh said nothing, staring in the direction of where her mother sat without looking her in the eye. Katyn finally looked up to see who had entered, then seeing Haruh in the doorway and placed the book aside. She took off her reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose for a few seconds before saying anything to her.

“Took you long enough, filth,” her mother muttered, rising from her seat to walk up to Haruh. “Hoahak and Khun would’ve been here ages ago.”

Haruh didn’t make any expressions when Katyn mentioned her brother and sister’s names. She continued to stare forward, not even daring to look her mother in the eye. “What is it you would have me do, milady?”

A small smirk appeared on Katyn’s lips. “I have a job for you.”

“You know I’ll do it. My loyalties are to you and Suwh, and you two only.”

Katyn nodded in approval, then reached into her suit coat pocket and pulled out a tablet and showed her a picture of a building that looked a bit run-down compared to some others she had seen. “This is the Shadowcastle’s Lab, as you have been previously told a while back. What I need you to do is find as much information you can about what’s in there, break in, and see what you can find in there and report what you find.”

“What’s the plan of entry, milady?”

“Since the building is in the poorer area of New Lere, it won’t matter much of how since no one will care. Through a window, picking the lock, whatever is the most convenient. Just make sure you don’t get caught.”

“Yes, milady.”

“And you’ll be going alone, of course.”

“But… Mother––”

A slap struck her across her right cheek, causing her to look off to the left. Deep instinct wanted to cry out, sob a bit, say something, but Haruh just took it and said nothing about it. She trained herself to not show any emotion when being show any sort of punishment, even as small and insignificant as this. It just wasn’t worth the trouble, since it would only end with more punishment.

A hand took her by the chin and pointed her to face her mother’s golden reptile eyes, thanks to the Tailors made to her. They were frozen cold, showed no emotion of what she had done, no remorse or empathy. Katyn stared into her eyes, threatening her, and Haruh immediately backed down, looking at the ground in submission. It wasn’t worth the effort. She closed her eyes, accepting whatever fate she was going to send her to.

“Be glad your father isn’t here, filth,” she spat. “He wouldn’t be as forgiving as I am.”

“My loyalties are to you and Suwh,” Haruh replied softly, “and you two only.”

Katyn stood up taller. “Good. Now, you’ll first go to the armory to get all the weapons you need.”

“Yes, milady.”

“Before you go breaking into the Shadowcastle’s Lab, you’ll first go to the Cellar. Go there, and find whatever information that can help you break into the Lab. Come back and report that information to me, then go into the Lab and see what you can find there.”

“Yes, milady.”

Katyn let go of Haruh’s chin and started to walk to her desk. “Now get out of my sight, filth.”

Haruh bowed to her mother, then walked out the door, not giving the guards any look whatsoever, knowing that what her mother had done to her was normal to every child. That’s what her parents told her every day, and she didn’t have a reason to not trust them.

.  .  .

Placing her hands on her hips, just below her sidearms, Haruh scanned the Cellar. She didn’t say anything, keeping her expression neutral. People laughed, cried, jeered, but didn’t pay any attention to her, as well they should do. Haruh wasn’t supposed to make a name for herself, especially not after this whole Wraith business that her parents keep talking about in hushed tones. It was best if they only thought of her as some random gang member, that’s what she was constantly told by her parents, and she believed it. She was nothing more but a tool in her parents’ hands, and she wouldn’t do any other thing, because that was just her place.

Haruh strolled over to the bar, waving the barkeep away when they offered her a glass for her to drink out of. She turned to face the crowd as she leaned against the bar, surveying the room again as she tapped the bar. A nervous habit she’d been trying to break out of, especially after being put in her place after her father gave her a hard punishment when he’d learned about her habits, but it wasn’t something that she could get rid of easily.

Her eyes fell on a certain group of people, causing her to raise an eyebrow. Haruh watched the group talk about things she couldn’t quite catch, due to the overall chatter of the room. Perhaps they would have something about the Shadowcastles. None of them looked like any contact she had encountered before, not that her mother specifically told her which person to look out for. All she could do now was watch and wait to see what this group of people did, not that she could catch their conversation, whatever that was about and where they might be heading.

[Channelknight Fadran]

Now that was someone who knew what they were doing down here. Kleisha was torn between giving the stranger a glance or pretending she hadn't noticed. Not that it mattered, really; if they were anyone worth paying attention to, they'd already know that she'd noticed them.

It'd be nice if everybody weren't hiding behind a million layers of masks down here, she thought, setting an empty mug down on the counter. It was easy enough to get into the habit of keeping her cards close to her chest when it came to mingling among people with a backup plan to every backup plan, agendas stacked atop other agendas; not so easy getting out of it. They'd try to pay her in a million ways; reputation, favors, information. None of them had seemed to consider that someone so well-versed in Underground culture just wanted some money to eke out a living.

"I don't suppose any of you lot are looking for a hired hand?" She found herself asking.

[+Sorana she/her]

Quote

Thanks a lot for tagging me. Makes it a lot easier to sort which posts are related to Bree.

And because I'm not quite sure who's aware of it and who isn't - as I'm living in europe you can expect me to be sleeping during the more active times.

Hiring a hand. Bree considered the idea and found herself nodding. "Actually I think, I'm interested in hiring you." She wasn't quite sure, why, but having someone to fight on her side wouldn't hurt at all during these times. "What are your specialties?" she inquired and looked the woman up and down, trying to see if they were tailored in an obvious way. They weren't, but that didn't mean anything. Wondering whether she could ask her to give her an example of her skills she let the question stand in the room and decided to answer another one. There was no harm in doing that, she was well known to those that had interest in her skills, her network within the underground large and solid. The moment she started to listen around in earnest she would find out how exactly Bree earned her money. Illegally. But that wasn't exactly something rare around here.

"And to answer your earlier question -" she added, ticking that one of the list of questions that had been asked, "I am quite obviously not a fighter." she turned her head a little toward the smuggler. "But as you have rightly guessed, I am definitely interested in aquiring some of your goods." Although she wasn't quite sure which favors he refered to, she didn't really care either. Tailoring people paid well enough that she could easily afford to pay for her supplies. If you were good, there wasn't any issue with money. And she was good. Better than most people would ever get. A thought crossed her mind and she looked over to the pit again, as if something there had suddenly caught her attention, if only for a moment.

Another split. One that would do whatever she told it, one that would belong to her completely. It would take more than simply splitting the person, she would have to tailor the brain too. Maybe remove some parts, or maybe find some stupidly loyal person and copy that trait. The idea captured her and she mulled over it, covering her silence by taking another sip of her drink. Maybe she would need to add something else, a fail safe of some sorts. Something that would force them to return to her regularly, apart from the fact that she would hold the original body of course. Packing the idea aside she turned a little and covered the movement by lifting an arm toward the barkeep, ordering a new drink.

A newcomer had placed herself close to them, was observing covertly and expertly. She was good, very good. Bree liked people who knew what they were doing, unlike the amateur who didn't even know which drink to order. That one was either the best actress Bree had ever seen, or she was attempting to walk in shoes way to big for her. Maybe she could sell her some tailoring. Something small for the start was probably best. Marking her as a potential customer she considered to grin at the one at the bar, and then discarded the thought. That wasn't how the game was played. They would approach them or they wouldn't. And if they were considering to rob her, well good thing that she was about to hire herself a fighter.

@The Unknown Order

@Channelknight Fadran @Rushu42 @Mystic Syn

Edited October 25, 2021 by Sorana

[Fallapede]

Thalise raised the glass to her lips, not taking a drink but giving the impression of doing so, as a dark brown shade slowly bled through her hair and her eyes turned a bright green. Once the change was complete, she stood and moved away from the bar, seeking out her next client.

[Channelknight Fadran]

"I'm a mercenary." Kleisha replied. "Not a hitman--more like a bodyguard--but that kind of work."

Mostly for traveling merchants. She thought to herself. Whoever this Brianna person was... they were clearly something different, even for the Underground. They were unnerving, unnatural, inhuman... but then again, you didn't get many unlike that among the Tailored. Even so, Kleisha started having second thoughts about selling her services to this person.

"So you've got a job?"

@Sorana

[+Sorana she/her]

"I don't need a hitman." Bree made a dismissive handwave. "What I need is someone, who has their eyes on my back during the times that come. It's been awhile since the city has been in that much unrest."

She left all smiles away and looked the woman in earnest. "Can you be discreet? I have some customers who would prefer that their names and modifications don't end on the street." She didn't really doubt this, every good Bodyguard knew how to keep their mouth shut, but then this was New Lere. It could easily be some kind of ploy. Better to ask, better not to trust too quickly. But then, you couldn't really trust anybody.

"And if you are - then there are only two questions left." She placed her drink down on the bar and lifted two fingers in the air. "What's your name and price?"

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The split is called Bree, not Brianna. Brianna is her other half. Just to clarify why both names appear in my posts.

@Channelknight Fadran

Edited October 25, 2021 by Sorana

[Mystic Syn she/her]

3 minutes ago, Sorana said:

She left all smiles away and looked the woman in earnest. "Can you be discreet? I have some customers who would prefer that their names and modifications don't end on the street." She didn't really doubt this, every good Bodyguard knew how to keep their mouth shut, but then this was New Lere. It could easily be some kind of ploy. Better to ask, better not to trust too quickly. But then, you couldn't really trust anybody.

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K, I seriously don’t know and this might be stupid it might be the me being sick thing, but are you talking to my character?