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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 19, 2018 18:21:33 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"He was adamant that the fungii's growth was borne from the measures of the soul." Lekalis mused with a hum as he watched Florence amble away from the corner of his eye, making to look like he was otherwise entranced by the notes before him, though he eventually leant his derriere against the table to watch Florence search. He'd long since read over these notes, and he doubted Cross made any new headway.
"It's the typical sort; Red was born from a passionate death. Black for the opposite; uncaring... he theorized that the failures of medicine circa 13 caused the Black Death." The Ex-Lord shrugged and cocked his head to one side as Florence picked out a curious set of notes. Older; he hadn't thought to dig at what the man had researched before his present fascination.
"... The... Pale fungus; natural deaths..." He commented absently,
"... What did you find?"
The papers were hard, the papyrus glue having becoming brittle over the years; the corners flaked away and it was slightly transluscent, giving it an almost skin like quality.
The ink was hard to decipher, but there was a curious notation amidst the typical and dry jabber of Cross' observations and poetic yammering. This set concerned the observations on the specificity of North-Eastern cut gemstones and minerals. There was mention of the Noivre; he had apparently lingered on the outskirts of a site that dealt with such peculiarly cut earthly reagents.
It was about halfway through the difficult-to-read notes that it was clear Cross wasn't making notes so much as collaborating with another; he posed questions to an undescribed 'V'.
There were more notes on the matter, but Florence would no doubt have to read into the papers more.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 19, 2018 18:38:27 GMT -8
There was a long moment in that Florence was silent, tracing along the words with a finger just a hair above the parchment, so as to not smear the already-faded ink. Her mask twitched... evidently, she was staring hard at Lekalis's amulet, and then back at the paper, and back again.
It was hopeful... perhaps she was being too optimistic that this paper would be useful, picking out the evidence she wanted to see.
"V..." She said slowly, trying out the sound, "Vi...ctoria...?" She guessed, and half-turned to Lekalis again, with paper in hand.
"Was Victoria in correspondence with Cross?" She asked Lekalis poignantly, pointing a finger at the paper before making to read on about this North-Eastern cut and the Noivres and all their associates.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 19, 2018 18:52:37 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
He slowly shifted his weight from one leg to the other, raised one brow instead of the other, as he watched her read, hunched over like a madwoman. Lekalis gave a small scoff as he looked to his boots and scuffed the toe against the cobblestones until she spoke up,
"Victoria... My sister?" He clarified with a skeptical squint.
"She wasn't... I mean, I can't say for certain if she was or not; it's possible." Lekalis shrugged and looked off to the distant window, it was perplexing as to why Victoria would ever bother with anotherwise mad fool like Cross. Though, she'd a good nose for useful and intriguing persons.
The notes read on; there were descriptions of cuts of gems that seemed rather rudimentary and basic, Cross seemed to have been organizing a small thieving bracket which swiped one jewel from every shipment to the Gunsches. There were great ramblings on how dangerous and impressive the deed was.
It crowded out much of the more intriguing notes, scrawled in the corners and edges of the fading papyrus; while most seemed Basic, or 'Mundane', there were more still that were designed to be socketed into a variety of curios. Some were 'Full with arcane energies', and others still were 'Dormant'.
Cross had apparently acquired quite the collection and boasted as per quo, to himself and 'V'. However, the last of the notes implied his bracket had been snuffed out; he had sent a runner to 'V' holding one such 'Dormant' jewel.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 19, 2018 19:09:12 GMT -8
"Your amulet began with Cross, I remember... and then it came to Victoria, and then to your father, and you." Florence frowned, paused, and then waggled the paper at Lekalis, as though she could transfer the information to him by air alone.
"...He wrote a letter concerning Noivre gemstones that house magic to one only referred to as 'V.' I suspect that is your sister."
The paper stilled as Florence continued on with her contemplations.
And then she drew it back in to continue reading, though she considered abandoning this set of notes and moving on into the stack again if she began to near the end...
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 19, 2018 19:17:30 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"That..." He pluffed his cheeks with air and huffed as he exhaled and pushed off from the table to join her at her side; casting a haphazard glance to read the flapped paper.
The paper flaked as it met resistance with the air, a small chunk faded to dust in the motion.
"... That almost makes sense." He mused as he stroked his chin, though he shook his head,
"I never knew Victoria to use such obvious pen-names; whenever we wrote to eachother in secret we'd use what we ate the fortnite prior, or capitalize each letter in a sentence, then the letters would spell out the real meaning..." He elaborated with a shrug,
"... I find it odd she'd be so obvious with such a conspiracy."
The notes were drawing to a close; rereading the curious mentions described that there was something most certainly peculiar about the gems, but Cross was no jeweller or arcansit to decipher their means. It seemed Cross had sent the gemstone to 'V' for a more accurate analysis; the meetup would have been at one 'Azule Bastille', and the deliverer would answer to 'Noahl'. A woman, brown of hair, green of eye and short.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 20, 2018 18:52:12 GMT -8
"Perhaps she was less concerned with being discovered writing to Cross." Florence suggested, though she clearly did not hold too much weight into it. It mattered not who this was originally written to; the contents of the letters were all she needed.
She gestured to the 'Azule Bastille', and then the 'Noahl' written on the page.
"Do you know of the Azule Bastille? Or... Noahl...?" She tried, hopefully, as she made to pass the paper off to Lekalis so that she might pursue further the stack of papers against the wall, again searching for the more, notably dated papers.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 20, 2018 19:03:46 GMT -8
/Lekalis/ "No..." He stated flatly, clearly, as he read over the words and tried to piece together something but... He never had bothered to think or learn on Cross' inner workings and puzzles. The man was frightfully drab and tedius; to think he'd so much time invested in such a precarious endeavour without his knowing... Lekalis' brow furrowed and shook his head, pawing at his jaw for a moment as he looked past the writing and onto the papyrus itself; he found a harmless corner and pinched it off, testing its durability. "... Paper, flaking like this; it's either been horribly preserved which... Isn't impossible. Or its been, what, two decades?" Lekalis cocked a brow to Florence, "I only studied under Cross for a year at best, I must have been... ten years of age?" He mused with a cluck of his tongue. "All the same, I've heard of neither of these; my best guess is they're code for something. Azule Bastille is French, I think... Right? Blue Castle?" Lekalis posed, "Cross doesn't speak French to my knowledge. It's peculiar he'd use it here." As curious as the prospect was, he shrugged hopelessly and made to examine another stack of notes.
Lekalis found little more than more musings on mushrooms, which he wasn't opposed to investigating; skimming them, he found small ties to souls which were rather poignant in their current investigation. However, Florence's hands curled around thicker paper, of sturdier make; the ink wasn't too terribly blotched, though the words were still noticeably scrunched together. It seemed that Cross was conversing with yet another unassigned receiver; it looked like little more than idle gossip about how Cross was hemorrhaging money from his observatory, and was looking to acquire funds either thru marriage or wine. The former seemed to be made in jest, but Cross was insisting to an inconspicuous 'you' to see if 'they' could twist an arm or two to give him more time. The trade seeming to be; Cross giving up some research and contacts, in exchange for funds.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 20, 2018 19:23:36 GMT -8
"Why would anyone send you to study under Cross..." Florence pondered this new information unhappily; to send a child to become a student of Cross's was little better than being no student at all. It was educational malpractice.
"How old was your sister at this time of this letter being written??"
She set the letter aside. It was useless, she assumed, but made to commit the information to memory regardless.
...Though in most cases she'd be more pleased to forget this added detail on Cross's personal life.
Slipping down to a more comfortable reading position, on the ground, on her knees, she again made to pilfer from the stack of papers and notes.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 20, 2018 19:44:25 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"That letter in particular..?" Lekalis chuckled and glanced over with a small derisive scoff, "... I can't know for certain, but I'd wager... 20 years ago?" He looked up to the uncomfortably high ceiling, regretting it rather quickly he shot his eyes to the ground and tapped his foot,
"I was a year past ten, and she was... Two or so years behind; she was nine, thereabouts." he supposed indifferently, watching her take a seat with a nod before going back to his own idle readings.
He cast a quick glance to the door, making sure it was shut, before seeing to the notes again.
"Cross has been rather busy; it seems he'd earned some means of living by sharing his findings on the fungus to the Gunsches..." Lekalis rose up the papers which rose a bit stiffly in the air before falling.
"... Finance reports. Rubedo Extract, one hundred tinctures for ten thousand gold." he reported as he set aside the papers and walked over to hawk over Florence's shoulder.
"You have any spare gloves..? I've a mind to read the set of notes on the table; don't want to touch anything the man's rat-tails touched." He offered a quick smile as he eyed over the papers Florence now procured.
These had more curious mentions; 'Fanuschrat's were mentioned, even, though briefly as a patron for distilling an extract from apples to put into wine. Though, Cross seemed begrudging to accept the prospect from a young girl sent as a delegate for the Household.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 20, 2018 20:14:42 GMT -8
Without a second thought, Florence shed her gloves and reached out to give to Lekalis. He would likely need it more than herself, with what he was making to investigate.
Her bare fingers arched in the unfamiliar cold air, then pinched the wrapped sleeves to push them further up onto her forearms. The digits were as pale and stiff as any cadaver's as they set aside this letter, too, to pursue more informative ones.
Surely a revelation was just a page away.
"Then it is unlikely that she was the recipient of the letter." She decided with a sniff as she set about scrutinizing the next letter.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 20, 2018 20:40:50 GMT -8
/Lekalis/ "Oh-- Th-thanks?.." Lekalis took the gloves kindly and carefully slipped the gloves on, worried he might stretch or break the second skin of Florence's hands. "... You're certain you don't need these? Who knows whats spilled or coagulated in the dust of those papers; I've heard tell of flesh-eating malices that linger on old parchments such as those." Lekalis warned with a hum as he flexed and tested out the fit of the glove. "You alright..?" He added, his head shifting to the other shoulder in worried inquisition. He'd never heard her so much as breathe, typically; with or without her mask. "... Tilly and I can sneak through those big windows if we have to, or knock out a guard. If we've needs to investigate more... We shouldn't get caught rummaging through these notes." For once, the writing on the paper Florence found was legible... Uncomfortably so; much like Florence's own rather stiff writing, it was clear and crisp with an unedniable academic precision coupled with a rather lethal grace in the sharp accentuations of the 't's and dots of the 'i's. It read as follows,
Doctor Cassius Cross von Gunsche,
I forgoe my typical cyphers for your imbecilic mind; your delivery has fallen short. We'd built trust, Cross, and I'd hoped you would emphasize security when we paid you forthwith.
Your failure has cost us gravely, if not everything.
We will need our money back. But given you've spent it all gambling on nonsensical fungii, we will exact it from your friends. Your family. These are facts you must learn to cope with in the future, Doctor.
When We have been fully compensated, I will send your bones to the earth.
Sleep well, Cassius
"V"
Beside the simply cut 'V'(Which seems to be written mockingly), is a grey-white wax seal with the head of a Cobra flaring its hood, facing head on; a stylized 'v' is implied in the simple design, and rather clearly expressed in a small triangle on the brow of the Cobra. A green ribbon is still attached to it.
The wax seems to have been re-glued on after breaking the seal as a reminder.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 20, 2018 21:07:58 GMT -8
"No."
Florence waggled her finger at him in two, short, strict motions, as though she were drumming on some invisible object in the air.
"Tilly needs to rest as much as she can. And it is too dangerous for her to be in this room."
There was the unspoken fact that the thought of leaving behind some intensely valuable information in this dingy room, to be burned by Cross or mistreated by some clumsy, illiterate guard... or that they may not be able to find the room again at all.
She scooted further down the row to search for other notes, her interest in this affair with 'V' having been entirely exhausted.
"We are commencing a legitimate investigation." She explained, needlessly, to Lekalis as she searched hastily through the remainder of the notes, regardless of any potential, flesh-eating oils lingering on the pages.
She hunted for key words. Any that she would find, she would collect into a pile beside her.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 21, 2018 19:24:52 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"We're as legitimate as any cat burglar; we don't have any papers... and I've a suspicion I'm running my claim as a veteran of this Hamlet a bit thin." He hummed as his hands idly drummed on the shoulders of Florence,
"You didn't answer my question : You sure you don't need these gloves?" Lekalis pointed out with a touch of a worried tenor as he looked over his shoulder to the door again, then the table, before his gaze settled on the jutting crow's nose of Florence.
It was a frustratingly difficult task to go through the papers in any efficient way as skimming the tightly cramped letters often produced misreadings or the like, even to Florence's acedemically trained eyes. However, the process of combing through this section of wall-bound notes was done in due time; a sizeable pile of papers, differentiated from financial reports and otherwise mundane messages and threats were the more apparently meaningful letters and notes on studies and research...
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 21, 2018 20:00:21 GMT -8
"It is only paper. I do not need the gloves. Help me look." Florence nodded stiffly to the hills of papers she was sat in front of, of which she was filling into her satchel as neatly as she could manage.
She gave a brief glance at the door and continued to fit papers away.
"Take anything you can find on the amulet, or its Red One, or on... souls. And soul transfer."
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 21, 2018 20:04:52 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
It was a peculiar deed; shuffling through the papers of his imprisoned once-professor. A deed he'd loathed long ago, but he sighed and nodded as he gave a cursory gander at the notes left on the table, before seeing to the ones Florence had arranged; he rolled his shoulders and nodded,
"Understood." He acknowledge quietly as he plucked up a handful and hastily thumbed through them.
He found none, and set them aside for Florence to sort through.
"Are we looking for your notes..?" He asked idly, ponderously, as he picked up another set and thumbed through those, before setting them aside and repeated the process...
\\
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