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Post by azmoham on May 22, 2018 18:37:54 GMT -8
He nodded, taking the proffered cloth and methodically patting down his damp form. "Mmm, indeed, best not attract too much attention with this whole business, no need to arouse undue suspicion."
The man agreed, running the towel over his closely cropped beard.
"I'll be sure to act with the upmost caution."
As If I can afford to do otherwise...
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Post by Vanitypirate on May 30, 2018 20:53:31 GMT -8
Tilly studied the overhead ceiling and its beams and stone walls, which were utterly nondescript and forgettable, but ultimately providing Jacques a safe amount of privacy.
Nodding, her eyes followed the vein-like lines of a spiderweb up above.
"'Utmost caution.' S'music to my ears." She sighed. That was it, then; that was the way to go forward.
It brought her some respite.
"And then we can go over what you find out, too, at breakfast." She continued, half to herself, as though to make mental notes.
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Post by azmoham on Jun 2, 2018 16:08:57 GMT -8
"Indeed, although I likely won't begin the meat of my inquiries until tomorrow, tis rather late after all, and I doubt the priests would appreciate my poking about at this hour."
Jacques, once thoroughly dry, hastened to put on his trousers and shirt. It was his habit to rarely, if it could be avoided, begin any large project with anything less than total preparation and to the wizard, this included a full meal and a good sleep, thus it is to these things he was most strongly drawn at the moment. Even so, his anticipation of the pursuit he now found himself on was immense, he'd not had anything this interesting to work on since...Well perhaps even since he'd first began crudely tinkering with the contacting of other beings, the old ones who dwelled like titanic sunken ships on the ocean floor of existence, his own meager self and indeed the whole of humanity seeming like so much flotsam and jetsam when compared to these other' almost incomprehensible vastness.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jun 2, 2018 17:07:16 GMT -8
Tilly's ears detected the trace shifts of cloth on skin and she judged it safe to free her eyes.
"You'd need to sleep, too, I imagine." She sighed, eyeing him: he was so much more fragile than she remembered. But, she reasoned, it was likely her own bias that shaped her view, too.
They'd all had their own mortality demonstrated to themselves before.
"Is there anything else I can get you? Less... cat's blood, and more tea and blankets?"
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Post by azmoham on Jun 2, 2018 17:20:13 GMT -8
Once dressed, he picked his bag up from the floor, and of course retrieved his precious staff from where it leaned against a wall.
"Hmmm..."
Jacques tapped his chin, lips pursed in thought.
"Ink,"
he declared suddenly, lifting a finger.
"And chalk, a few sticks of it if you can."
he looked to her, nodding as if that settled everything. He'd taken the liberty of bringing an ink-pot and a bundle of quills with him, he hardly had confidence that would last very long once they got into the real grind, recalling the volumes upon volumes of notes and observations Florence, and himself, had made in their last academic venture. This was set to be far grander than that, so he had no doubts as to the immense need for ink he'd soon find himself with, not mention the necessity of chalk to his spellwork at this point.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jun 2, 2018 17:37:58 GMT -8
Tilly squinted. It wasn't exactly what she had in mind. She was more hoping to prevent any further maladies from coming to Jacques than anything else.
But... she supposed, she could get it done. It would leave more effort for him to manage his own more mundane chores.
"Ink and chalk. Got it."
She rose and slid her satchel up onto her shoulder, carefully arranging the books on the bench more neatly.
And then she gave a last glance to Jacques.
"Be safe." She nodded resolutely, before cracking an admittedly small smile,
"Don't make me think I have to play cards with you to keep you out of trouble."
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Post by azmoham on Jun 2, 2018 20:04:17 GMT -8
The ex-mage chuckled, shaking his head.
"Oh my no, not unless I happen to be dropped off another roof, what are the chances of that though eh?"
He asked in a way that implied they were greater than most would like to think.
"I assure you, all I plan to do is get to my room and then to bed, nothing more. Certainly nothing that'd require anything so drastic as another hand of cards."
The man grinned.
"Now, I do believe there's a lordling who likely misses your most esteemed company, and I would hate to deprive him of it."
He waved his hand towards the bathhouse door as he stooped over the bench to grab his books and return them to the depths of his pack.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jun 2, 2018 20:41:06 GMT -8
"Don't--" Tilly pointed a finger at him and shook her head, "--Don't you jinx it. You'll wake up in the morning at the tip-top of the abbey's roof, I guarantee it."
She grinned back, though, as she took steps towards the door, and began her departure with a cheery wave.
"We're buying propery crockery and the like; s'real entertaining. Bloodier than any expedition. I'll keep you posted." She jested, tipping her hat at the mage with excessive flair.
Her other hand pulled open the door and she stepped outside, and she began sincerely,
"I'll see you soon! Sleep well!"
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Post by azmoham on Jun 2, 2018 21:09:58 GMT -8
Jacques returned the tipping-of-the-hat with an equally overwrought bow, low enough his nose almost brushed his knees, before swooping back upwards into a standing position once more. "I'm quite sure, do try not to get any more teeth knocked out before your wedding, and give the lord my regards." He watched her exit, and listened as her steps receded down the hall, only stepping from the room when it sounded as if she were gone. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his thumb over the rough surface of the cane. "My my..." He murmured, opening the door and stepping into the cool, dry air of the abbey. Shutting the bathhouse door behind him, he followed Tilly's lead. He wandered the abbey for a bit, poking his head into this room and that as he struggled to recall where 'his' room had been located, and perhaps find the archives in the meanwhile. After only a few minutes or so, he at last swung open the door to his own, former abode. Small, grey, and with an equally little bed pushed against one wall, and at the foot a washbasin with a bit of cloth that could've once been white but was now a sort of yellow-brown, with spots of dark, crusty red. He stepped in and shut the door, taking a deep breath and setting his bag onto the bed and sitting down himself. For a while, he sat in silence, sometimes thinking about all he had to do and face, and sometimes simply listening to the sounds which wormed through the great stone halls of the church. At last, he gathered himself and went to remove three things from his bag: a quill taken from the bundle he'd brought, his inkpot, and a curled sheet of parchment. Smoothing the parchment against the paper, he dipped his quill in the inkpot, and started to write. Salutations, dear sister,
I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, I write to inform you of my being, which at the time that I write this letter, is quite well. I reconnected with Tilly rather quickly after my arrival in The Hamlet, and have been informed of her imminent marriage to lord Blood, or as is his actual name, Lekalis. She says they are to be married within a fortnight or so and expresses her wish that you could be here to see the ceremony. She has also asked that I convey her well wishes and hopes for your own well being and contentment. As it stands, I do wish you had decided to come. This place, grey as it may remain, appears to be half as deadly and cantankerous as last we saw it. I may be yet some time away, given that there are certain obligations I have to fulfill here, I wouldn’t name them save in person, such is their danger. Safe to say, they are of dire consequence and most intriguing nature. I pray you may continue to keep up the work in town, and ask that you keep the hearth clean and the house in order. Try not to spend too much time in your cups, it wouldn’t do to find you in another drunken stupor, coin spent on drink and little else. At any rate, there is no need to be worried about me, I can assure you I am quite well, and see no reason why I shouldn’t be for the foreseeable future. I must confess however, your absence is keenly felt, especially given Solomon’s. I do hope you change your mind and make the journey here, I’m certain that once you can meet this place again, you’ll see it’s not as devilish as you would otherwise think it...Still rather smelly however.
With fondest wishes,
-Your loving brother, Jacques.
Once finished, he set the page as well as his bag, his shoes, and coat onto the ground beside the bed, leaving the ink to dry and then laying down. It was just as uncomfortable as he'd remembered, which made it roughly as comfortable as his bed at home, he thought with some amusement. With any luck, he'd be able to sleep soundly and without any interruptions, he'd need the energy for tomorrow. For a while he lay there, pondering and gnawing on those ideas that'd been presented to him just a little bit ago, and soon found his mind running at such a pace that attempts at sleep would be pointless anyways. He sat up, took up his bag, retrieved a favorite book and his 'dinner', and set to reading, gnawing on the bread as he did so and doing his best not to catch too many crumbs on his shirt or the thin parchment. At last, he felt drowsiness pull at his eyes, and packed his things away, and just as an afterthought, saying a brief prayer that he wouldn't wake up on the roof before going to sleep.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jun 10, 2018 16:20:31 GMT -8
[This is taking place in the morning, following Lekalis discovering Crowvant and alerting Florence and Adeney to the breakfast meeting.
For clarity: Tilly will be leading Jacques from the tavern to the Witch's House, whereas Lekalis will be bringing Florence, Adeney, and Audrey there.]
Tilly's feet still felt rather clumsy and heavy from last night's bout.
Fighting, it seemed, consumed more energy than she really remembered. There were times when she'd wonder if it was truly necessary to retire, or if she couldn't hazard one last expedition.
But then push would come to shove and she'd be lying under some woman who was on the verge of bleeding herself out.
She felt bitter. It wasn't as though the Hamlet was a safe haven, no-- but all the beasts in the Hamlet had a blind hatred against all of its denizens, not just specifically herself. She had seen the woman lurking around town, but she never imagined that that woman would be the one to try her.
It was strange; she used to look for shadows to lurk in. She'd never had much to be afraid of until now.
She kept quiet, running her thumb up by the lapel at her neck, as though to protect them from some assault.
With the other hand, she pushed open the door to the Witch's House.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jun 10, 2018 16:38:34 GMT -8
[Likewise, Lekalis will have led Florence, Adeney, and Audrey/Crowvant into the Witch House shortly before Tilly arrives. They will have only been there for roughly 10 minutes tops before Tilly's arrival, where the current posts will take place]
/Lekalis/
With a huff, he looked to the three more curious compatriots of his that he'd led to this place. The First Floor of the Witch House was still rather sparse with any righted furniture, but Lekalis had seen to setting up a fair dining table for Florence, Adeney and their Crow-Person. Audrey. It was still a bit difficult for him to settle easily on her name, considering her origins and old name. It was certainly a different person, it seemed, but still the same. Like a painting poorly covered by another image.
Lekalis found his eyes lingering more and more on the pale skin, the dark hair of Audrey; leaning over the table, he looked to the scattering of chairs that he'd managed to fix up and set respectively about the table. "... So this is it." Lekalis informed them with a small smile, he'd kept it quiet... It seemed to be the quiet before the storm, where plans would be laid.
The Ex-Lord was admittedly, shamefully, sparse with how best to proceed. Much of the ordeal with the Amulet was beyond his own powers... But he was determined to try to understand it, to try and assist in anyway he could. If not for his compatriots, then for himself... So he might not feel like a helpless lordling. Even now, as he touched the amulet at his chest, he felt he weighed heavier on the shoulders of those involved than the curse which afflicted him.
Lekalis' eyes snapped to the door that creaked open, his hand immediately falling to his hip to rest upon the hilt of his Falchion. Hidden behind his red cloak, he squinted into the morning light, and felt a smile crack his tired features even before he could rightly affirm who'd opened the door... By some preternatural instinct, he knew it was Tilly. "Well, far be it from me to keep you waiting, huh?" He mused cheekily and pointed to Adeney and Audrey,
"Adeney, Audrey--" He introduced swiftly, knowing full well who Tilly was towing along... and how quick the man was to draw an otherworldly tendril, "--Assistants to Florence and I... Err.. well, Audrey is more of a... Patient?" He looked to Florence for affirmation, squinting at her, before looking back to the opening door. "Patient." he presumed with a nod. "They're good."
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Post by black379 on Jun 11, 2018 11:30:24 GMT -8
Adeney watched the ex-lord, and Florence too, a little suspiciously. The place was deserted, secluded, perfectly suited for the necessity of secrecy. But the full extent of this meeting was undisclosed to him, he only trusted that Florence and her compatriots would be straightforward and forthcoming.
"She's a Doctor, you should know." The blonde spoke up as he assisted the pale girl into a seat. "Doctor Silvant." Remorse set into his face as he looked her over again. Even if he had never killed her, if somehow she survived the gruesome wounds and infection, she would still be this gaunt and mangled thing, unable to walk on her own.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jun 12, 2018 0:20:16 GMT -8
"I welcome more minds in this endeavor."
Florence was as unfazed as always by the explosive display of emotion.
It was all a distraction from their current goal, which she was pleased to find her compatriots focusing in on again.
She stepped back beside the table and looked over her notes.
"Can you read Italian?"
---
The silence Tilly found in return was more insulting than anything he could have said.
He didn't even look at her; her only relevance being the Wife, bearer of the Child.
She supposed that loss of identity was the reason she fled from marriage and the like, initially; there was more value held in herself than to sit by and allow herself to be handed off like property. It was naive to think that a change in locale would affect the core of the meaning of marriage. What an idiot she was to believe this had anything to do with her. It was more on what her own body did against her will.
Tilly smiled sourly, watching the men talk about something with as much gravitas as her family's souls. She had as much agency in the matter as this Audrey Silvant did.
"Let's get Jacques a drink, then." She announced in a sickly-sweet tone, stepping up past the stairs and sweeping past the hatch to the ground floor, making to escape with no intention of returning with a drink for Jacques.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jun 19, 2018 0:24:51 GMT -8
[Following a funky retcon...]
It was jarring, shocking, to Tilly as she fully appreciated how ineffectual she had become.
She recalled the days when she had boundless energy to fight, fall, pick herself up again and repeat, only interrupted when she had been slow enough to get struck by something sharp or otherwise injurious. The idea that this energy might lapse never occurred to Tilly until rather recently.
What a pity, too. Her energy to fight faltered in a time when she desperately needed to call upon it.
She had grown accustomed to the blind, undiscriminating destruction of the Estate's creatures. There was comfort in the knowledge that, no matter a man's station, title, wealth, skill, or otherwise importances, there was a beast lying in wait to dismember such a one.
A pity, she'd though again, as she moved through the dark of the eerily empty Witch's House. That comfort allowed her to naively believe that all members of the human race were allied against these monsters. It never appealed to Tilly to slay her fellow man when there were bigger, scarier creatures willing to do it. And the thought that this Sicherlein might have been felled by Tilly was a discomforting one.
Taking an admittedly paranoid glance about herself and her surroundings, she wisely accepted that not everyone held the same view.
She still made a mental note to visit Sicherlein after this meeting, provided she was alive at all.
She knelt quickly, as fast as her sleepish bones could manage, to pull open the hatch and slip into the basement where her other comrades were surely waiting.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jun 19, 2018 10:57:28 GMT -8
/Lekalis/ With a huff, he looked to the three more curious compatriots of his that he'd led to this place. The First Floor of the Witch House was still rather sparse with any righted furniture, but Lekalis had seen to setting up a fair dining table for Florence, Adeney and their Crow-Person in the more secluded basement... ...The Crow-person, Audrey. It was still a bit difficult for him to settle easily on her name, considering her origins and old name. It was certainly a different person, it seemed, but still the same. Like a new painting set over an old canvas. Lekalis found his eyes lingering more and more on the pale skin, the dark hair of Audrey; leaning over the table, he looked to the scattering of chairs that he'd managed to fix up and set respectively about the table. Her dress fit well enough, but he still spied where the stitches caught against the robes... And occasionally, the grisly euthanizing scar about her neck peaked out from her collar like a morbid rainbow. "... So this is it." Lekalis informed them with a small smile, he'd kept it quiet... It seemed to be the quiet before the storm, where plans would be laid. The Ex-Lord was admittedly, shamefully, sparse with how best to proceed. Much of the ordeal with the Amulet was beyond his own powers... But he was determined to try to understand it, to try and assist in anyway he could. If not for his compatriots, then for himself... So he might not feel like a helpless lordling. Even now, as he touched the amulet at his chest, he felt he weighed heavier on the shoulders of those involved than the curse which afflicted him.
But, so too did small flickers of memories dance just out of reach... He cocked a brow as he nursed a small headache growing at his temple. Memories of a different room, the faces too... But in a familiar din, a remembrance smoldered like a flame which had been hastily smothered. Tomes and scrolls laid bare, vessels of import... Gems, skulls, and roots.
Whispers hissed into his ear, none made words he knew but he felt their intent. Yet all he could surely remember in this flicker of a memory, was a glass and goblet filled rife with wine.
Lekalis' eyes snapped to the hatch, its creaksome noise giving much needed reprieve to the frightful silence of his doctorly comrades. "Tilly?" He presumed right, as he spied muddied boots clutching her lithe legs, his love for them all but lustfully beat in his heart as he let his hands clap together excitedly, rubbing them together. They would finally be taking steps to free themselves of the Curse... Where his love wouldn't be so weighted by guilt and remorse. "Lovely timing, me and the good Doctors here were just discussing..." Lekalis looked over to Florence's lens, the dark, flinty intellectual eyes beneath betraying nothing but human curiosity and ingenuity... And gave her a quick wink, before briefly passing over Audrey for his own focus, and quicker still over Audrey... A doctor he'd yet to warm to. "... Nothing. Really." He finished, as he shrugged and looked to Tilly with a quick bow of his brow.
His cheekiness subsided for a touch of warmth and genuine concern, he pushed himself from the shoddy table he'd put together, and took some steps towards Tilly, "Did you make it here alright? You weren't followed?" He cast a quick glance over her shoulder, before his inkish eyes settled upon Tilly's mossy own and made to touch her cheek.
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