All the Ticks Left Behind

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Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld. The small town of Plugit is nearby.

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Avi Kwensie
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Joined: Sat Oct 06, 2018 10:07 pm
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Writer: Iz

Sun Oct 07, 2018 3:17 pm

10 Yaris 2718, twilight

A warm wick’s kint reduced Avi’s journey into Old Rose Harbor from four days to two … and quartered her purse. Worth it, though, when the whence of the travel was golly prison walls. Even though they’d seemed glad to be rid of her, it felt that any moment she’d be snatched back. But nothing like that happened. She was let out and forgotten, left to pick up exactly where she’d left off, with the same clothes and a slightly lighter sack - exactly the trappings she’d had on her when she’d been dragged out of the Bear and Boot by a pair of emboldened Seventen.

«Mujo ma,» called Avi to the driver, and she jumped down from the back of the wagon onto the familiar cobbly streets of Old Rose Harbor. Most of the lamps were lit in the growing dark of the Cantile neighborhood, and a familiar sea breeze meandered between the buildings. It would have been enough to coddle a Homesick, but familiar smells wasn’t the only thing waiting to greet Avi Kwensie.

Her time in golly hands had only brought her to just-even with Silas Hawke and his Bad Brothers.

The wick’s kint rattled away and Avi pulled up her hood. She needed to see if her old shop was habitable. It had been nothing much before she’d been forced to abandon it, but the apothecary had no doubt it had been reclaimed by Old Rose. On her way, she found a stout length of iron, a lantern hook left behind by a lamp lighter. He hefted it in her palm, setting her jaw to take back what was hers.

Avi’s old master’s apothecary was narrow and tacked onto the end of an alleyway. It was dark inside and the glass was gone. Taking a tighter grip on the hook, she pushed open the door. Someone had clearly been living there, and by the smell of it, might have died there as well. The once brimming shelves were barren but for cobwebs and rat shit. The floor was covered in dirt and debris. The fireplace was recently used and uncared for.

A search of the premise took only a few more moments, two rooms and a cellar turning up no living soul and none, either, of the warmth she’d left. She let her weapon down and rubbed her eyes. The damage was what she expected. What she didn’t expect was how cavernously empty it made her feel. She stood in wasted hole of her old life, robbed out from under her.

A noise at the door caught her and she snapped up her makeshift weapon again.

“I’ll beat out your last ticks, take one more step,” she hissed in the dark.

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Benton Borteillo
Posts: 99
Joined: Mon Jul 09, 2018 11:15 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Human
Occupation: Mr. Drug Dealer Drug Man- retiring.
: aka EON, Roswell Godfrey
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Writer: Quix
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Mon Oct 08, 2018 9:42 pm

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10 Yaris, 2718....
B
enton had a job for Mordecai.

It wasn't the cleanest of jobs Benton had offered the younger man, but it certainly wouldn't get Cai's hands as dirty as past jobs.

Murder. Arson. Poison.

No, tonight's job was one of deception, of betrayal, and Benton need the loose morals and nothing-to-lose spirit of Mordecai for the job. Benton had appearances to keep, but Cai certainly didn't. Thus, Cai was the man for the job. Simple, really- Cai would harass Aziza, Benton's partner in both business and bed, when she delivered a fake run of drugs to Cai, but would only attack her enough to give her a fright. Benton, then, would tearfully convince her that it was in her best interests to leave the drug business to him because it was safer and he cared for her safety and whatever other lies he could tell her to make her leave the business, leaving the money to him and Cai, but the sex for him and her. It worked, really, at least in the favor of Mordecai and Benton.

It was a job he and Mordecai had long discussed, but, tonight Benton slipped into the crisp air of the Yaris night to signal to Mordecai that it was time.

It was not a long trek across Old Rose to Cai's regular haunts. It was, unforunately, a guessing game trying to find the young man- he had five or six regular haunts, but never informed Benton when he'd be where. Thus, Benton would cycle through them all impatiently, jumping on and off of the ruffled-feathered moa, Pigeon, to knock on precarious doors.

He slid off of the Moa, boots striking the ground with a dull thud. Instinctively, he reached to retract his beloved flail from his belt, his other hand grabbing Pigeon's reigns and dragging the animal from the center of the street the shadows cast by the low, dark buildings. This wasn't the safest part of Old Rose by any means, but Benton was familiar with it. His best customers were here, after all.

Benton led Pigeon down the alleyway off the road with him, the little light of twilight shrinking with every carefully placed step. He stopped the moa a little ways away from their destination, tying her away securely before continuing the journey towards the squat, abandoned building at the end of the alley.

Someone had certainly been home recently, Benton observed, noting the slight opening of the precarious door and the tracking of dirt beneath it. Benton dangled the flail at his side, ready to swing it into action at any second. He placed a palm on the wooden surface of the door, the pushed it open with a slowness unmatched by even a tortoise. Yet, the loose hinges of the upper joint caused the door to sag, to drag against the ground with a grating noise. Benton's heart nearly stopped, and he stood completely still, waiting for his entrance to be noticed.

I’ll beat out your last ticks, take one more step, came a low growl from the otherside of the door. Certainly not the growl of Cai.

"What, shall I wait 'side the door for you to leave, then? My ticks are all about tocked, nothing much for you to beat out of me same as there is nothing much in there for you to steal. What are you doing here, stealing some lowly boy's night hideout?" he asked in a low, quick, and stern voice, his hand still ready to open the door as he restrained his curiosity.
In hell I'll be in good company.
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Avi Kwensie
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Joined: Sat Oct 06, 2018 10:07 pm
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Writer: Iz

Mon Oct 08, 2018 10:30 pm

The voice that answered lacked the rasping desperation of a junkie and there was no sickening galdor aires. It was one of the clean swindlers’ manners - just exactly the right local vernacular and tone that avoided escalation without backing down. Avi once knew that trick, and she’d have to learn it again. Familiar voice, but she couldn’t clock it.

She let her iron hook drag on the floor (as fair warning) as she took a step around.

“Nothing left to steal because everything taken was mine,” she said, her bark just less bitter now. Slowly, she lifted the iron tool and used it to move the door open. The man in the doorway was backlit, and Avi knew he could probably see her better than she could identify him likewise.

“So you come looking for something, here, even though you know there’s nought worthy left to pick?” A little devil in her mind was whispering paranoias; they’ve followed you here, it said. She pushed it away. This was a chance encounter, a lucky guest. That was all.

“Who are you, then? You’d know my name if the sign wasn’t nicked.”
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Benton Borteillo
Posts: 99
Joined: Mon Jul 09, 2018 11:15 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Human
Occupation: Mr. Drug Dealer Drug Man- retiring.
: aka EON, Roswell Godfrey
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Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Quix
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Tue Oct 09, 2018 8:10 am

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10th of Yaris....
T
here was a woman in the house, and no sign of Cai. She was convinced that this shack was her former abode, and he nearly laughed in pity. The likelihood of her being another cracked-out addict rose exponentially at this claim. He wouldn’t make an assumptions, though- at least not aloud.

He stepped away from the door as the sound of something heavy scraping across the floor met his ears, his hand tightening around the spiked flail that dangled by his knee. A creak of the floor told him that she was just on the other side of the door, and he awaited. The door opened suddenly, and his shadow was cast upon a human woman of similar height to him. She was perhaps his age, which intrigued Benton- few times did he meet a human his own age of older. She was darker than him: dark hair, dark eyes, dark rings clinging to her eyes. A pleasant smell surrounded her, a smell of bergamot, basil, and the other earthy smells of herbs and spices, but the smell mixed with the smell of bird drippings and mold spilling from the house pungently.

“You leave something of yours unattended in Old Rose for a day and the Harbor’ll claim it back. You should know that,” he replied, the ease of his tone betraying the strict tensity at which he held his body.

“I’m not looking for nothing material,” he defended sternly as her tone towards accusatory as if he had stolen her possessions. “I’m looking for a human boy who camps here, only 20 or so. He probably sold what you had, that’s my best guess.”

“As for me, I’m just a man of the Harbor. Benton Borteillo,” he introduced himself but did not offer a hand to shake or a bow of acknowledgement. His eyes narrowed to scrutinize her, then moved around the building. The faded outline of some missing sign lay above the door, perhaps even the sign she had mentioned. “There was an apothecary here for some time, no? It’s a bit fuzzy in my mind- I never much came round here. Up and disappeared, left this place a prime location for all kinds of criminal acts.” He motioned towards the broken windows.

“If this is all yours and you’re so eager to take it all back, why’d you leave it all behind? Not to bright of you, considering the place,” he said, though he had some suspicions that this leaving was not at all by choice. The abandonment had been too sudden, too unprovoked.
In hell I'll be in good company.
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Avi Kwensie
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Tue Oct 09, 2018 9:59 am

Avi couldn’t begrudge Old Rose for reclaiming her nook; it was as natural as a jungle consuming an unclaimed temple. The thievery too was the way of it - it stung but there was nothing to do about it now. To anyone, she was as likely dead as not and it was a sin to waste even a cold corpse’s estate.

She hadn’t seen anyone since she arrived ten minutes ago and in the heap it was hard to tell which of the mess might be recent. She waved her free hand to indicate his boy wasn’t here. “Unoccupied.”

The light evened and she could see him better. Tan of skin, sweet of face, a deliberate scruff, nice clothes. Avi felt a pang of envy at his guise of comfort. She absently turned the rings over in her fingers, the only trappings left of her own previous ease. His flail didn’t go unnoticed.

He spoke his name but she didn’t know it. Benton Barteillo. Never heard of the kov, but even in a small place like the harbor it wasn’t a surprise. People came and vanished, and there were more names than souls. She loosened her grip on her weapon and crossed her arms, chin up proudly.

She watched him amble off her stoop, and followed him out a few steps, keeping her iron hook close (though her alarm had faded.)


“It is mine, actually. I’m the apothecary. Avi Kwensie. And the only brightness I lacked was falling afoul of Seventen.”

Not yet ready to blab her slight with the Bad Brothers all about town. It might however be obvious to a clever bean; Silas Hawke had hold over law and order in the Harbor, so if someone got nicked …

“Earned a three year stay-over ye uncles and aunties.”
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Benton Borteillo
Posts: 99
Joined: Mon Jul 09, 2018 11:15 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Human
Occupation: Mr. Drug Dealer Drug Man- retiring.
: aka EON, Roswell Godfrey
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Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Quix
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Fri Nov 09, 2018 8:29 am

Image
10th of Yaris....
”S
eems so,” he nodded at the unoccupied space, a mess as Cai had left it. Now, where would Mordecai, that stupid kov, be? Some other haunt for Benton to hunt. How irritating. He stepped back from the house- this was obviously not his stop, not worth any more of his time. His flail bounced along the back of his leg, reminding him that it was there, ready to protect him.

“Is yours, was yours, whatever you’d like to say,” Benton dismissed with a nonchalant hand. “Your name means nothing to me.”

He caught himself, the rudeness of his own tone drawing his attention.

“As in, it rings no bells,” he added to elaborate on his offhanded comment. The Seventen. Certainly, they put a rub in the lives of many for no reason. He had been lucky to avoid them, but, eh, it was only a matter of time. He knew that, given the choice of imprisonment by the Seventen and death by Silas Hawke, he’d pick imprisonment. Of course, freedom would be preferred.

“Aye, the Seventen certainly get in the way, hm?” he mentioned, and he turned away from her. “Apologies for disturbing you, miss, and I hope your business can pick itself together. If a young kov named Mordecai stumbles in here, just send him off to me. He isn’t-”

And Benton stopped himself, turning an ear to the street. He was sure he had heard something, or rather someone, and he listened, a hand raised to pause any questions Avi might have.

Aye, ‘e’s been stayin’ down ‘ere, hidin’ out,” a rough male voice came, half whispered as it bounced down the street.

Seventen will give a pretty bit for ‘im, ya say?” answered a female’s quiet voice.

Shiniest coins you’ve ever seen for this kov,” came the answer, so close and approaching quickly. Benton was sure, immediately, that this kov was Mordecai, his boy. And these two were coming to the apothecary’s old shop to look for him.

“Cai, what did you do?” Benton whispered under his breath, an eye roll soaking through his voice. He turned back to Avi quickly, his mind quickly working out some plan.

“I really wish I wasn’t causing a clocking millenium of trouble for you, especially as you just returned, but, aye, I may need a favor from you. The two of them- whoever they are- the likelihood that they’re looking for my boy is a lot higher than I’d like to think, and they’re coming right here in hopes of haulin’ him off,” he stepped towards the shop, a seriousness in his plan and voice.

“Can you... can you talk them off? Get them to believe he’s never been here and won’t be here. I would do it, but, eh, if they know he’s been here, they’ve probably seen me here. Know we’re in cahoots. If you do this, we can work out some sort of payment for your services,” and he continued towards the house, the voices nearly upon the two of them now in the dimness of the street. He looked her in the eye, pleading with his own grey gems.
In hell I'll be in good company.
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Avi Kwensie
Posts: 15
Joined: Sat Oct 06, 2018 10:07 pm
Topics: 3
Race: Human
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Iz

Sat Nov 10, 2018 6:49 pm

Benton Barteillo had turned out to be sweeter than his first impression as a breaking-enterer. Certainly, he had the rough edges of any who’d survived more than a few years in Old Rose, the bluntness of humanity. And his weapon, it served the same purpose as hers - defense of self and same.

It’s a pity there’s no luck for Avi, no quiet night for Kwensie. She heard the voices as soon as Benton did, but only Benton’s face showed that grim twinkle of recognition. He was kind to explain and kinder still to

She didn’t have a great deal of time to consider her options. Certainly, Benton Barteillo could be a liar, assassin, thief, grifter, shade, or snake. Or their approaching company were Bad Brothers and Avi had yet had debts with them, in which case, her many apologies to Benton and his Cai. The only ray of sunshine is context clues meant they wouldn’t be Seventen. The only pleasant option remaining was they were independent bounty hunters, thugs, or gangsters.

“Go,” she said at the last moment and gave Bention a shove back towards her shop. She got them both inside and shut and locked the door. Instead of hiding like she wasn’t home, she set about making like she’d been there awhile. She dragged a chair to the hearth, and from her bag (all that she had left in the world) she found a tobacco pipe (without any leaf), a book (herbiary), a small framed picture (her da), and a well-used cozy sweater. The rest had no clever use.

“Well, get not-seen, Benton,” she urged as she made a great effort to look a middling domestic. The place was still obviously a squat, but if she could make out like she’d been around awhile, her (true) word that she didn’t know any ‘Cai’ would go further.

She put the pipe in her mouth, sat in the chair, opened the book, and leaned the iron hook within reach. And waited.
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