[Belle's Brilliance] Unfamiliar Territory

[Drezda Ecks]

Roalis 1, 2718

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The galdor had regrets; coming to the Dives probably hadn't been the wisest of decisions.

Drezda could look after herself with the aid of magic, of course, labelling her usage as conquest because if any human tried to lay a finger on her far superior skin, the diplomat would be sure to teach them the error of their ways. She kept a tight hold on her field, ready to let loose an offensive spell if required. However, the Hoxian walked with confidence, even if her steps did carry a delicacy to them. She turned heads, her features novel enough to attract attention despite her small stature but her clothing also screamed wealth. Of course, they were going to look her way. She was rich and exotic, but not a target; her bearing wasn't that of a victim, her black eyes sweeping imperiously over the humans and wicks that she passed, their clothing, their hovels, all of it, silently tutting in her head. The dregs of society, pitiful.

The diplomat didn't approve of the location, occasionally causing her field to pulse in a semi-threatening manner when one of the Dives' denizens drew too near. She wasn't interested in them, not really; they were simply a minor nuisance like flies that she felt the need to swat. However, the galdor had been led to believe that there was something worth investigating in this dreary place. Drezda had politely complimented the music box of an associate and been treated with rhapsodies of praise about a shop near Hollow Street in the Dives - the Dives of all places! - although the location had been given in a whisper. To suggest that there might be something worthwhile in that den of inferior races was a difficult thing for any golly to stomach. The fact that he'd been willing to admit it and the craftsmanship of the music box had piqued her curiosity. Thus, here she was, moving purposely in the Hollow Street area, following the directions she'd been given.

That's when some bloody stop-clocker had to try to rob her. She'd seen him in the corner of her eye, thinking that she'd made a mistake; surely that creeping body couldn't be one stupid enough to try anything with her? Alas, she saw the knife come out, the slight glint by his side as he moved to try to catch her by surprise. Drezda was ready for him.

She allowed her head to turn fully in his direction, even as she stepped to the side, moving away from him. Her hands came up, palms facing him but it wasn't a gesture of surrender. Instead, she murmured words of Monite with reverence and pushed outwards, unleashing a pain spell. He recoiled, frozen to the spot as his body writhed with its own personal agony.

Conquest...

The diplomat had the time, her concentration total as she regarded the human or passive - there was no discernible field so she couldn't be sure which he was - with cold displeasure so she unleashed a sting spell afterwards, lashing him with the aid of an extended pointer finger. The welts appeared on his face, the young woman revelling in the agony she was inflicting, giddy and a little light-headed from the casting. She swayed a little on her feet, silently thanking the mona for its cooperation, naming the man's pain and humiliation as an offering. The damage done, she completed her spell and finally spoke to him in a tongue that he could actually understand.

"Don't meddle with your betters, boy," she remarked coldly, walking away without a backward glance as the man collapsed back against the nearest solid surface, glaring after her, fear and rage mingling on his face. She didn't encounter anyone else troublesome en route to the shop, which was probably for the best because she was still on a high from her magic, the street swaying a little. Thankfully, there was no difficulty finding the place. A sign hung outside it, the gear on it prominent, the name printed in more faded letters as if someone had forgotten that that bit could be important to the literate: Belle's Brilliance.

The Hoxian pushed the door open, lips twisting in displeasure at the violent jingling of bells. Her eyes found the multiple offenders that hung by the frame on the inside, closing it behind her with care if only to protect herself from another auditory assault. Her head still seemed to be ringing though but thankfully, it wasn't as ridiculously loud in here now. There was a great deal of ticking, the source a variety of clocks and watches that were part of a wall-to-wall display. The diplomat wasn't actually sure where to look. The place was small but bursting with items. The word that Drezda was liable to use was 'cluttered.'

She sniffed, haughty gaze assessing every inch of the place. The moment that she encountered another person, the woman's face would become smooth, impassive, neutral. She wasn't likely to come across anyone here that she needed to show semblance of friendliness toward. She crossed her arms loosely over the silken, red and black Hoxian style dress she wore, wondering if this place was actually worthy of her custom.

[Boston Brilliant]

Roalis 1, 2718

It had been a rather quiet morning for Belle’s Brilliance. There was an older gentleman who had come in at one point who needed his pocket-watch repaired and then, after him, there was a young woman who was looking for a present for her soon to be husband to which she found a lovely phonograph. Evidently the soon to be husband was a musician of some sort and would love such a device for home. Besides the two Boston had had the morning for himself, it was a rare occasion, but one Boston did not take for granted. While he was someone who enjoyed the rushes and getting business, it was still nice to have some time to work on personal projects and the such.

His backroom, where he did almost all of his work, was currently in a state of disarray. All three of the tables in the room were covered in different tools, pieces, papers, and other miscellaneous items. There were inventions half invented and schematics that have been in the works for years now! Tucked beneath one of the three tables there were several bins that contained a mishmash of completed and uncompleted works, some of old designs that Boston had made before, and some things that were as unique as they were useful. He did have a certain level of love for making things that did not serve a real purpose other than just a work that was made from a fit of passion. In a simple summary, the room was a mess, but it was a mess that Boston had a great love and respect for! It was proof of all the hard work Boston had put into his career and there was nothing better than inventing and seeing those inventions beloved by himself and the world!

His current project was still in the schematic stage of building. He sat on a squeaky stool that had no back rest, hunched over his desk and working with a quill. He was working on a rough sketch of what would be an amazing suit that could allow the wearer to walk on the floor of any body of water. This was his eighth design of the suit, his previous ones were either not good enough, had some flaw to them, or he had knocked over his inkwell and ruined the schematic, that had become a common practice for Boston while working in the backroom for too long. The current sketch was turning out pretty well. While it wasn’t perfect to Boston’s preference in terms of aesthetic design, it did have some good functionality to it. It was bulky, several tubes attached to the limbs, and a large dome-like helm for the head. There would be weights attached the sides of the suit which would enable the wear to actually be able to sink down to the bottom and then if they wanted to go back up the weights could be removed. The current problem was the weight of the suit and he would need a large man to actually test it out. It was most certainly a blockade in Boston’s planning.

Letting out a heavy breath, Boston tapped the top of the page with his quill, leaving several ink spots across the rim of the page. Most of his schematics had that lovely touch to them, the thinking dots that Boston had a habit of making. He did it whenever he was absorbed in thought, unaware of the surrounding world. It was useful for thinking and planning, but it had a serious drawback. Whenever he got like this, more distracted by thought, he was more liable to get-

CLANG CLANG CLANG!
Scared.

Boston nearly jumped from his stool, his hand swung across the table and knocked into the inkwell. Before it could tip and spill onto the schematic he managed to catch it with his other hand. Letting out a sigh he managed to smile with relief. “Inventor one, inkwell two-hundred forty-five.” He shook his head and stood. He looked up to the bells which hung in the backroom which had been connected by a string to the ones outside. It was another customer! A nice distraction from his work and after that near heart-attack, it would be a good way to settle down.

He set down the inkwell back onto the table and moved over to the backroom door, swinging it open and walking into his shop. He almost surprised to see the person standing there. An elegantly dressed Galdor, one who looked to be of high regards and status. He would’ve been more surprised but given his early home life and the recent business of a few other Galdori he was pretty used to it now. Boston had a feeling he would know where this exchange was going to go, but, regardless, he put on a kind and polite smile and walked over to the counter which was only a few feet in front of the door to the backroom. He leaned down on the table, using his arms to support him as he inspected the woman.
He cleared his throat once, hoping to grab the woman’s attention before beginning to speak. “Ah! Hello there and welcome to Belle’s Brilliance! Thank you so much for coming into my humble shop of wonders.” He straightened himself slightly, taking a prideful look around his shop. “Can I help you with anything? Were you looking for something specific today? I am sure whatever it is you want I can get it for ya! If you don’t see something on the shelves that suit your fancy, then I will gladly make it for you if you want to put in a request.” He gave her a slight, casual nod. “The name is Boston Brilliant by the way, good to meet ya, ma’am!” He spoke very casually to her, not changing from his usual tone. It was the tone he’d use to address any other patron.

[Drezda Ecks]

Roalis 1, 2718

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A cough startled her out of her critical assessment of the place, features smoothing as she turned her gaze to the man who leaned oh so casually on the counter. The owner and presumably the man who had made all this stuff. Perhaps it was surprising that he'd made all of these things, impressive as well but she didn't really know just how much labour went into them. Drezda could tell that much of the craftsmanship was beautiful but was it difficult? Time consuming? She didn't know. However, regardless of what work he might have put in, the galdori wasn't impressed by his tone.

Her lips took a slight downturn at the corners as she moved towards the counter, her displeasure not likely to be readable. The young woman was considering her words, wondering how best to approach the matter, when she came in range of his field. Or rather... where his field should have been if he'd had one. The Hoxian went completely still, wondering if she was mistaken. Perhaps he'd dampened it but then... where would the logic be in that? No field. He was either passive or wick. In truth, she should have expected it. The Dives were a den of the lower races, the scum of Vienda, Anaxas, Vita. The diplomat had conveniently ignored the most likely possibility about the owner - that he was inferior. He was the worst of the worst and she'd just walked into his shop.

This Boston Brilliant - what a stupid sounding name - would be within range of her own field. He'd be able to sense it, gain a sense of the size and power of it but she allowed it to flex, making it more apparent to him. She was superior to him and he had used that tone as if she was just another human or a wick. The sorcerer was ill-pleased.

"You're a human," she stated flatly, allowing her black eyes to travel from his crown down to where he leaned on the counter and up again. "You own this place. How? How did you acquire a shop like this? Skills like these?" Drezda questioned disdainfully. If she could have looked down her nose at him, she would have but he was considerably taller than her. Nevertheless, her attitude showed that she was doing it in theory, even if in practice, she was looking up the length of her nose at him. Her distaste was far from subtle.

Drezd took another look around the shop, gazing at the array of inventions. To think that a human could do this; it was horrifying to her. Could he make guns? Possibly, or some other projectile weapon, perhaps.

"I came to look. Someone I work with had a music box from here but now that I've seen the source... I don't want anything from you," she explained coldly. Her head tilted, a thoughtfulness flitting quickly over her features before the haughty mask returned. "No, that's not true. I want to know what you can do. You said that i could request something, what are the extent of your abilities? You know what I am, you can feel what I am," she added, allowing her field to flex once more, the mona trembling with a mixture of anticipation and annoyance. this was the second time she'd flexed it in a matter of minutes and yet she hadn't done anything with it yet.

"Tell me everything that you can do. Can you make weapons that can be used against us?Do you work for the Resistance? And before you try lying, know that I have magic to read you. If you lie, I'll know. If you won't tell me the truth, I can get it out of you. I can be very... persuasive," she murmured, a slight smile touching her lips, a glint of eagerness entering her gaze as she gathered her field.

"Off you go, Boston Brilliant," she murmured, moving to Monite almost at once, casting a truth spell, feeling the elation of the cast and knowing that her use of Perceptive Conversation was a noble one; the pursuit of knowledge was always a noble one.

[Boston Brilliant]

Roalis 1, 2718

The movements of the Galdor were something Boston could never quite figure out. Not only the physical motion of it, that sort of pace and elegance to their step, but it was also the mentality of it, the sort of air they carried about them. They carried themselves in a high regard, they let everyone around them know how superior they were. It was the same for this Galdor, but more so. She had that presence of being above others, but it extended beyond that. Better than everyone, regardless of race. It was such an odd thing to see and Boston couldn’t help but watch with a sort of curiosity as she moved over to the counter.

Then came that wave of force that swept over him. It was the presence of Galdor that was forced upon others like a hefty smell overwhelming dog. It was something that Boston had grown up with, that presence of a Galdor and it was something that he was more than used to, it didn’t surprise or shock him and he did not let that feeling of inadequacy touch his face. He just kept that calm and pleasant smile planted there. He was the owner of the business and he would not let one person, regardless of race, ruin his day.

At her commentary and inquiries Boston had gained the strong sense that she wasn’t here for business, at least the kind that he was used to. He straightened himself, no longer leaning on the counter so that he could address her more properly and act as though he was at least some form of owner or person with remote competence. He was about to answer her first string of questions when she started up again, it was one thing Boston knew that Galdori were good at. Talking. They really did tend to go on and on, even the nice ones that he enjoyed spending time with. He almost made a slight misstep before she could finish speaking. He had almost left out a small laugh when she told him “You know what I am, you can feel what I am,” There was something almost comical about that, something overexaggerated or theatrical that just made him want to giggle. He didn’t, though. He knew better than to laugh at someone like this and knew that if he had made that miscalculation he would more than likely end up in a cell or worse. He didn’t even allow that joyous expression to touch his face, he remained as was from the beginning of her rant, keeping a calm, polite smile.

When she finally gave him permission to speak, not something that he usually was given or even needed, he bowed his head slightly to her, keeping it down as he began to speak. “I apologize, ma’am, for the situation that I have seemed to put ya in.” He raised his head again, now looking her in the eyes. There was something a bit more formal about his tone, more business-like. He did understand the situation he was in and keeping his casual persona would not fly by this Galdor, at least if he wanted to keep his store. “I do indeed own this place, it is something I have put many years of my life into. To answer your first two questions, the answer is the same, my mother. She was both the owner of the store and the person who taught me how to do all of this. She was a very skilled craftswoman and taught me as much as she could before leaving for a personal matter.” He shook his head, having an idea that she was going to press into that matter. “She refused to tell me what the matter was however, I believe she needed a resource for an invention she was working on, but it would not come to her easily. I have owned the shop for the past three years in her absence.” So far everything he was saying was the truth, there were things he wasn’t fully telling, but what he had to say was honest.
“As for the extent of my trade…” He continued, “let’s see…that’s a bit of a tough one to answer.” He thought for a moment and no more, knowing it best not to keep Galdori waiting. “I can invent most things that don’t involve steam power or electricity. I have no knowledge of either of these areas of inventing. Outside of those two realms, I suppose, theoretically I could invent just about anything, at least within the means of the law.” Again, this was the truth. He had no reason to lie to this Galdor, nor did he have any desire to. He liked to stay out of trouble, keeping his nose clean (Minus smudge and dirt and ash and coal and other things that could stain his nose while working). For the most part, most of his days were spent inside in the workshop. He once went an entire week without leaving the backroom, having to need Tomlay bring him food and water on several occasions.

“As for weapons and things that are otherwise dangerous, I make crossbows and explosives.” He slowly raised his hands defensively, hoping she’d let him finish. “The crossbows are sold to hunters and they must present their permit. I then follow up by checking in with the local government to ensure that they are not frauds. The explosives are for miners and for construction, or I suppose…demolition. I go through the same process I do for hunters, probably to a greater extent because I understand explosives are a great danger to society. The crossbow in display is unloaded and the explosive has no powder inside, they are both harmless.” At this point he’d lower his hands, now resting them on the table. “I have never been in contact with the resistance and I have not tried to form a contact with them. I am very content with where my life is, and I’d prefer not put that at risk.” He nodded firmly at her, not lying to her once in the entirety of answering her questions.

Letting out a breath, he rose his hands up and crossed them, maintaining eye contact with her. “I hope my answers have been acceptable and, again, I do apologize, ma’am, for the situation I have put ya in. I am a simple inventor and shop owner just trying to make his mother proud. If you have any other questions for me I will continue to answer them truthfully.” He bowed his head again and would not raise it until addressed again.

[Drezda Ecks]

Roalis 1, 2718

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Drezda had a sadistic streak. It was actually a little known fact within the circles she moved in, although she suspected that some might have their suspicions. Proof was something that would be difficult to come by though. Oh, they might see her magically strike her passives on rare occasions but that was hardly definitive proof. One would need to get into her mind or be told to know for certain although it was likely that some saw the cruel and eager look in her eyes sometimes.

Her predilections meant that she enjoyed causing suffering where she could - physical, emotional, psychological - it didn't really matter which but some left less obvious marks than others. Discretion was something that was necessary in her line of work and so she had to choose her targets with care, choose how much damage to do to them. With Boston, she saw him as an ideal target. As a human, he had no one to turn to, no force that would protect him from a galdori and thus, her power over him was guaranteed. Admittedly, he could try going to the Resistance but if he wasn't part of them then it wouldn't be easy to get in contact with them and besides, she considered herself a difficult target; even if Boston tried to set the Resistance on her, Drezda was confident that they wouldn't try anything on her. They weren't assassins for hire and even if they were, she was one of the worst people to go for. If they thought the Anaxi were bad then what would they think if the Hoxian government came down on them too? No, pissing off another kingdom would do them no favours.

The young woman wanted him to lie. If he lied then she had justification to hurt him, good reason to make him fear her. Once he realised what lying would do to him, he would cringe away from the possibility of falsehoods, quaking at the mere prospect of what one ill-chosen could cause. That was what the Hoxian wanted at least but that wasn't immediately forthcoming.

The new deference and respect that he showed was accepted without comment, the diplomat simply considering it her due. He should remember who his superior was and he should be sorry for forgetting his place, even if for just a moment. Perhaps the next time he thought he could address a galdori as an equal, he'd think better of it.

However, as he explained himself, her magic failed to pick up on lies and she found it extremely dull. She was disappointed to say the least. Oh there was a slight thrum in the Perceptive mona, a tension as he spoke of his mother that seemed to hint at an incomplete truth but it was weak, hardly discernible and the diplomat didn't think that there was anything there. He wasn't hiding any great secret, that was clear, because even if he was stretching the truth a tad, it was the truth.

Her eyes glazed over a little, a slight impatient sigh leaving her as she found little of interest in his word but held her concentration all the same. It was difficult, maintaining the spell when there was nothing worthwhile showing up and the man seemed inclined to talk with great enthusiasm on a subject that frankly sounded boring. But he came to the end of his little speech, providing her with answers for every question she'd asked and not a single untruth in a word of it. She released the mona, disappointment saturating her field although the human would be unable to read it.

As Boston had spoken, the slight smile had fled her face, lips pressing together, concentration and thoughtfulness in her expression. By the end of it though, her lips were pressed together quite tightly, slight folds appearing at the corners that seemed to give a downwards turn to her mouth. The Hoxian was ill-pleased indeed.

"Simple, yes. You really live a simple, boring life, don't you?" she remarked flatly, one side of her mouth raising as the lip curled back, a partial sneer. "Oh well, I'm sure that it's sufficiently exciting for you with your little amusements. I don't think there's any point asking you questions. You've no connection to the Resistance so... you're just another human scrabbling in the dirt for some coin; you're no threat," she added dismissively, gaze turning away from him, the diplomat stepping away from the counter with a sigh.

Her manicured nails danced over the variety of objects arrayed near at hand, a bored cast to her features. "I suspect the only real life you'd show is if I questioned you about your tinkering and your little projects but I'm really not interested. Pretty toys, nothing more. I should have known that a hint of art in a music box is no indication of someone who can make something truly useful. Children can usually hit upon something clever every once in a while by accident."

The galdori reached up to tuck hair behind her ear, black gaze utterly blank as she gazed around the shop, not seeing it. "Well, I suppose if I ever have reason to purchase something for my colleague, I know what way her taste runs. Farewell, Mr Brilliant... if that is your real name. If so how... unfortunate," she added airily, opening the door and wincing at the cacophony of bells.

"By Bash, invent a way not to deafen your customers with that racket"" the Hoxian complained as she stepped out, slamming the door behind her, leaving bells jingling madly in her wake.