[Memory] - All hands on deck !

Old Rose Harbor is Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld.
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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Thu Aug 08, 2019 7:43 pm

2713 - 25 Vortas - Autumn
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Kirrah pressed the wound with both hand as a geyser of blood sprayed her face. The man, some random Bad Brother that knocked at her door sooner this day, was watching with dread as Kirrah used her elbow to wash most of the blood that was running in her eyes.

- That ain’t supposed to do that, ain’t it?


Kirrah spat some blood, pressing harder on the wound:

- Which part? You bleeding out? Or you getting freaking stabbed in the shoulder near the artery? Cause at least one of those ought not to happen yeah …



At least the moron knew enough not to remove the shard of glass, sticking from its shoulder, after a bar fight, giving him enough time to reach her door as the shard more or less reduced the blood loss.

- Don’t you have something fo’ the pain?

Kirrah scowled:

- Don’t worry, it won’t hurt when the brain flow to your brain stop and you turn into a vegetable.




At this point, it seemed the artery was punctured, but not torn, or the poor sod was as good as dead. But preventing it from ripping with the blood pressure might be … challenging.

Suddenly Kirrah got an idea.

She took some drug on her counter, and put it under the nose of her patient:

- Breathe it.
The terrified thug did without a second thought, suddenly becoming immobile and soft.

The narcotic Kirrah gave him induced a state of near death if used in the proper amount, slowing the heart beat drastically and inducing an artificial coma of sort. Kirrah then used the opportunity of the slowed blood flow to grab a scalding iron and pressed it on the wound, burning the flesh into a nasty scar, but stopping the loss of blood.

At this point, Kirrah had more or less done everything in her capacity considering her level of skill. The rest was up to lady luck, the will of the Mona, or any other cosmic entity finding worthy of it’s celestial time to come down and breath life into a low-level thug.

The two mates of the thugs, that were gnashing their teeth nervously so far, came closer to him, checking on him, seeing no reaction, they got closer and started handling him until one of them started yelping:

- You fucking butcher. He’s dead!

Kirrah got closer to the body, saying with annoyance :

- What? No, his pulse is just slowed by the drugs, see? He’s just …



Kirrah checked his pulse and raised her eyebrows:

- … Oh yeah, he’s definitely dead. Might have used a bit too much narcotics considering he was already weakened. Food for thought as they said.


Kirrah turned to the two thugs and just said:

– Which of your gentleman will settle my bill then?


The man that spoke earlier answered with anger:

- We wo’t pay you for some butchered work!


Kirrah smiled and answered

– Then you know the drill, the body is mine to experiment upon, so I guess it’s good night gentlemen. You can go back to whatever fancy soiree you were enjoying

The man was starting to be fuming, and reached for his blade, when Kirrah shut it down with a gaze colder than the embrace of death:

– I don’t make the rules, Silas do. If you’re unhappy with them, take it to the big boss. I might not yet be the best doctor in this whole continent, but at least I treat your kind when you knock at my door for an affordable fee, per the Bad Brothers agreement. Most people walk out of here alive, yet not always on two legs that’s true, but alive nonetheless, so you better not antagonize me when you might be the next one needing my “butcher knife”


The two thugs then stormed of while throwing random insult at the “bitch viper” as some had started to call her. On her part, Kirrah was checking quickly on the corpse, verifying he was definitely dead before cutting him open to try and see where it went wrong.

A quick knock at the door reminded her of previous engagement. Silas had made a query for her skill in the field of narcotics. She was to head toward the Muluku island with some new contractor Silas hired to check on a new grower and organize the supply chain.

Kirrah walked to the door, still covered in blood, ready to welcome in the usual Bad Brother goon.

When she opened the door, she couldn’t prevent herself from saying out loud:

– You have to be kidding me …





word count: 797

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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Thu Aug 08, 2019 9:15 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
Kirrah's Lab, Old Rose Harbor
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Autumn had swept cool over the Rose; they were more than halfway into Vortas now, and the days were growing ever shorter and the nights ever darker. The Rose had seen more than a few early storms already, and there were rumors already of early frost in Vienda.

“And so?” Niccolette snapped. “What, so this - Hawke says we go, and so we go?” The Bastian stepped around a pile of something in the street, flicking the hem of her cloak to avoid the mess she would have preferred not to name. She gritted her teeth and scowled at her husband. “I do not like it.”

Uzoji shrugged, his hands sliding into the pockets of his long coat. “No more than than I do, beloved.”

“And this city!” Niccolette snapped. A beggar grasped at her cloak, and she shrieked, kicking at the man. “It is filthy. It is filthy, and I do not like it!”

“Niccolette,” Uzoji said, slowly.

“We leave, then,” Niccolette said, firmly. She stopped, standing still on the edge of the street. “We leave the Islands - we take the ship. He will not follow us to Thul Ka.”

“Niccolette,” Uzoji sighed this time. He stopped as well, turning back to look at his wife.

The beggar approached again. The Bastian turned on him, her cloak snapping out around her, and pulsed her powerful field, sending a wave of bright energy rushing through him.

“Epaemo,” the man muttered, ducking his face down into his filthy dark beard, and fled.

Niccolette turned back to Uzoji, field still throbbing in the air around her. “We run,” she spat the words. “To Florne, if need be. I will not bend the knee to this man who thinks himself King.” Her voice was a low hiss.

Uzoji closed the distance to her. He pulled his hands from his pockets and took hers in them. “Oh?” He asked, softly. “So you would rather bow to my brother? To your parents?” He smiled at her, shifting her hands to one of his and lifting his other hand to cup her cheek. “My dawn and dusk, this is the best way. The only way. He has made that clear. It will not be like this all the time.”

“He makes us his errand runners,” Niccolette spat. “Where is your pride?” Tears burned in her eyes, and she turned her head away from him.

“You think I’m tamed?” Uzoji asked, deceptively soft. There was a low heat in his voice, a fury that thrummed through Niccolette. She felt it flare in his field, rushing through her, and she shuddered, biting her lip. Her field pushed back against his, wild and powerful, and for a moment the air around the two galdori burned hot with the tangling of the mona. Invisible communication ran between them, the mingled fields shifting together.

“No one owns us,” Uzoji whispered, harsh and fierce now. “Put up with this. It is a trade, beloved. He rules us only if we let him.”

Niccolette looked back at him, gritting her teeth. “I cannot like it.” Her field relaxed, slowly, the tension and heat dissipating.

Uzoji grinned. “I’d be disappointed if you did, dear heart. Now come - we want to start off before the wind changes tonight. There are rumors of a storm.”

Niccolette sighed, shifting against Uzoji. She pulled her hands free from his, but then wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her close too, whispering in her ear a long few moments. Niccolette smiled, faintly, and pressed a little more against him.

“This city is filthy, though,” Niccolette said, sharply, a few moments of silence later. She pulled back from Uzoji and swept past him. “It is this way? This contact of Hawke’s?”

“It is,” Uzoji said, cheerfully. “The Rose. It has a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“No,” Niccolette scowled. “It is a foul, godsbedamned place.”

“Here,” Uzoji said a few moments later. Then, “this way.” The two galdori made their way through the rat’s warren of streets in the western edge of the harbor, edging past ramshackle houses in the dark. The streets around them reeked, even worse than the rest of the city; walking through the narrow, twisted alleys, it was hard to tell whether the skittering of feet on the ground was rat, human, or something even worse. More than one voice groaned in desperation from darkened corners; more than one smell better not contemplated too closely wafted from the miserable ground.

“This?” Niccolette said, hotly, standing in front of a cramped archway. She made a face, looking up at the stone wall, then down at the gnarled wooden door. She made a face, looking at it, then back at her husband.

“Is that blood?” Uzoji asked, eyebrows raised, looking at a stain on the wall at just about the height of his head.

“Yes,” Niccolette snapped. “Of course. What else would it be?”

Uzoji shrugged. He took a few steps forward, closing the remaining half dozen feet to the doorway, and rapped his knuckles against the wood.

When it opened, both galdori stared at the sight of the tall woman with almost gray skin, an unpleasant scowl on her face and blood drenching her skin.

Niccolette pursed her lips together, visibly unimpressed, lifting an eyebrow at the other woman’s words. She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one booted foot against the filthy ground. The dark brown dress beneath her dark gray cloak was simple enough, but well-made, and fitted her like it had been tailored to her (as it had).

Uzoji smiled, white teeth gleaming in his dark face. “Kirrah Grey?” He asked. His eyes dropped to her hands. After a moment, evidently nonchalant, he fetched a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat and offered it to her. His field hummed in the air around them, heavy with the feeling of physical and static mona. “I believe Hawke let you know we would be coming. I’m Uzoji Ibutatu – this is my wife, Niccolette.”

Niccolette’s scowl deepened, and she looked away, arms tightening across her chest.

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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Fri Aug 09, 2019 11:23 am

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Kirrah kept looking at the handkerchief, her gaze navigating from Uzoji to his offered hand. Kirrah was like a wary kitten, though one with a bone deep sense of pride, carefully considering the two envoys that were obviously Galdori.

Kirrah finally eased up to Uzoki warm and honest smile. Seeing his complexion, he was obviously from Mugroba, which made is a slightly lesser evil in Kirrah’s eyes. The sailor and the such she crossed path from this region tended to be more humane toward her, which was a nice change of pace.

The young alchemist was still tense, but at least she somehow managed to get a grip back over her emotions.

She gently refused the handkerchief and said:

I appreciate the gesture, but unless you have a bed sheet sized one, I’ll favor a quick shower over pointlessly ruining your handkerchief with some dead guy blood. You may enter and make yourself at ease while I change though, my equipment is already packed."

She casted a side glance at Nicco while saying it, carefully gauging the young lady attitude.

M. Hawke did sent a message telling me about a new contractor coming along on this mission, but I honestly did not expected the greenhorns to be galdori, so you’ll excuse my momentarily astonishment.

Despite being one of Silas goons herself, Kirrah was breathing and speaking proper education and refinement, which was an absolutely unusual quality in the gutter that was Old Rose.

Kirrah opened the door to her lab in full, displaying its interior:

Kirrah lab was well organized to a familiar eye, everything always at a specific space, and a total landfill to anyone else. The addition, with time, of way too many things had transformed the lab into a museum of horror, where a batch of opium of the finest quality was patiently waiting next to a brain in a jar.

Stash of document were piled accordingly to the on-going project they were linked to, some corner of the sheets eaten by the lab rat Kirrah kept in cage to try-out new theory, or new products.

She herself walked to a side room where she had some running water for hygiene and overall utilities. She let her guests make themselves at ease in her lair, at least as much at ease as they could be next to the half dissected corpse that Kirrah had totally forgot she was working on just moments sooner to their arrival.

When Kirrah finally emerged from her “bathroom”, she was wearing a towel and quickly grabbed a tunic to wear.

– Hello then, M. Uzoki and Ms. Nicolette, how briefed are you on the mission M. Hawke assigned us?




word count: 475
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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Fri Aug 09, 2019 12:50 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
Kirrah's Lab, Old Rose Harbor
Uzoji grinned at Kirrah, and tucked the handkerchief back away, evidently unoffended by her refusal. “Thank you,” he said, politely.

Niccolette glanced back at Kirrah when the other woman spoke. She made a slight face – but then it eased, slowly, and she shrugged her shoulders, her cloak shifting. “Very well,” she said, inclining her head in something that resembled a nod.

Uzoji stepped across the threshold first, his eyebrows slowly lifting as he looked around the lab. He made a face, and coughed into his hand, doing his best to hide it. Niccolette followed him in a few moments later, long enough that Kirrah had already made her way out of the main area and off to the side room.

“What is a greenhorn?” Niccolette asked Uzoji, low-voiced.

Uzoji had been leaning forward slightly, examining the brain. He looked back over at Niccolette, smiled, and shrugged. “I'm not sure. Is this…” He looked back at the brain, then over at his shoulder at Niccolette, grinning again.

“Yes,” Niccolette grimaced. “It is not stored properly,” she shrugged. “It will not keep well, I think,” she wrinkled her nose, glancing around the room again. “This Ms. Gray is very sloppy with her experiments.”

“You could at least try, darling,” Uzoji said, gently.

There was a pause, and Uzoji asked. “… is that why it… smells like that?”

Niccolette shrugged again. “Perhaps. There may be many causes."

The Bastian made her way over to the body lying on the table, studying it. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and focusing for a moment, thinking through the spells she had studied for quantitative casting. At Brunnhold, they taught quantitative hand-in-hand with living conversation – but a narrow, focused sort of quantitative casting, the sort that taught a galdor to look into a living body and determine what was wrong with it, what needed healing. Learning what had gone wrong – learning why a patient had died – was a simple enough modification of the spell, and one that Niccolette had long since sought out.

Niccolette began to cast, the harsh, strange syllables of monite echoing from her mouth like a prayer. Her gaze stayed fixed on the half-dissected body as she wove a quantitative spell to tell her about the damage the body had suffered – beyond the obvious post-death butchery, of course.

Niccolette let the last syllables of the spell trail off into the air, and cocked her head, slightly, feeling the mona respond to her cast. She wrinkled her nose. “Some kind of drug, perhaps,” she said, thoughtful, glancing back over at Uzoji. “He was very weak. It is hard to tell what killed him – that or the shock of his stabbing.”

Uzoji grinned at her. “See? You’ll have plenty to discuss with Ms. Grey, I’m sure.” He hesitated, glancing at the door to the side room. “Dear heart, there is – one thing – ”

The door opened then.

Niccolette and Uzoji both turned to look – and Uzoji, abruptly, blanched and turned away, clearing his throat faintly. Niccolette’s eyes narrowed, harshly, and she stepped closer, teeth grinding slightly as she put herself between the very-indecently-dressed woman and her husband. The movement brought her within a few feet of Kirrah, and Niccolette froze, abruptly, eyes wide. She tracked Kirrah with her gaze as the odd-looking woman disappeared behind the curtain in the corner of her room, tunic in hand.

Niccolette’s jaw clenched, and she ignored, without the slightest hesitation, the polite and (relatively) professional question that Kirrah had asked. “A passive?” Her voice was raised, hot, and there was a bright, sharp flare of living energy that pulsed around her, expanding outwards across the room.

“Hawke – he dares – ” Niccolette took a deep breath, shaking. Small hands clenched to fists at her sides, and she gritted her teeth. “I shall not,” she told Uzoji. “It is not safe – how can she – ” She glanced around at the lab, and a shudder shook her whole body.

“Niccolette,” Uzoji said, quietly. He had turned back by now, and he set his hands on Niccolette’s arms. “This, my heart, we have discussed. Have you not come to terms with Aremu?”

“Aremu,” Niccolette spat, her whole body tight and tense in Uzoji’s hands once more, “is different. You trust him. I do not know this…” she gestured at the curtain, and when she spoke, her voice dripped with scorn, “… Ms. Grey!”

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Rolls
Quantitative cast to determine cause of death: SidekickBOTToday at 9:32 AM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (5) = 5
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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Fri Aug 09, 2019 1:58 pm

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Kirrah walk back from behind the curtain, finishing to attach the button on her tunic after putting on some trouser. She stopped dead on her tracks, letting Niccolette vent, but as she went one, Kirrah’s eyes turned into two slim slits, radiating a cold wrath that seemed totally out of sort with her normal behavior.

When Nicolette ended her accusations, a death silence took hold of the room for a few seconds, before Kirrah finally broke it and a voice so cold it sent shiver through one’s spine:

- That’s … grand … MY PEOPLE have been, and are to this day, persecuted, slaved, bullied and even tortured when it fit the deviants minds of our DEAR Galdori overlords, and YOU get to act as if MY very existence is a thorn in your side?


Despite her unveiled anger, Kirrah movement were calm and precise as she lifted her shirt slightly, showing a mean looking scar on her stomach.

- This, right there, was offered to me by one of your people, high and mighty princess. Not even as a punishment for some imaginary crime, no, just because I happened to fall under his gaze while he was in a good mood, and I spoiled this good mood by being a sore spot under his eyes, which got me this life-threatening wound.

Kirrah was fuming at this point, her shoulder shaking slightly:

- Now tell me how your dad or mother or whatever was mean to you and you took off for a life of adventure with the Bad Brothers, or ask Silas how he DARES to humiliate you by offering you some fair work with one of its associate while we, ourselves, have to scramble each day for the scrap that fell of your table. I’m sure he’ll apologize and offer you another job with a little gift as an excuse. For us, this business mean life or death, while for you, if everything go south, you can just walk back to your comfy life.

Kirrah opened her door:

- Now if my very existence is such a pain in your side, you’re free to take your attitude and to take off, but I’d consider running fast, and far if you consider letting Silas down. As of being scared of my “diablerie”, let me reassure you: mine only seem to turn people around me nasty, and as far as I’m concerned, I think you handled that pretty much on your own already.






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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Fri Aug 09, 2019 6:27 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
Kirrah's Lab, Old Rose Harbor
Niccolette and Uzoji both turned to look at Kirrah when she spoke. Uzoji’s hands were resting on Niccolette’s arms - not so much holding her in place as sort of bracing her, as if he meant to comfort her. One hand stroked her arm, gently, up and down. Niccolette pursed her lips and scrunched her nose slightly in response to Kirrah’s initial yelling, resting a little more against Uzoji and only just stopping short of rolling her eyes. It mattered very little to her what Kirrah said, and the passive’s anger didn’t scare her in the slightest – how could it?

Niccolette felt Uzoji’s sigh reverberate through his body. She looked away, half-ignoring Kirrah as the passive continued to vent her anger against the galdori. Uzoji didn’t look away; he gave Kirrah his full attention, but for the hand still stroking the soft fabric of the dress that covered Niccolette’s arm.

Abruptly, Uzoji stiffened, his hand stilling against her. Niccolette looked back at Kirrah again, jerking her gaze back to the passive. She scowled at the sight of the woman’s stomach, harshly. Uzoji coughed, politely turning his gaze and his body away from Kirrah’s exposed skin, letting go of Niccolette to do so. Niccolette’s eyes dropped to the scar – curiosity warring with the offense of Kirrah’s utterly inappropriate behavior – and she scowled at a little harder.

Kirrah made her way to the door and opened it, and now Niccolette did roll her eyes, ever so slightly. She wasn’t remotely offended by Kirrah’s words; it was easy not to be offended, as she didn’t care at all what Kirrah thought of her. She looked at Uzoji instead, raising an eyebrow. Surely, she thought, now he could see the rightness of what she had suggested? Even the passive thought they would do better to run.

Uzoji cleared his throat, rubbing his face with his hands, and looking somewhat warily at Kirrah. He sighed. “Ms. Grey - just minutes ago, you asked us to forgive your surprise that we are galdori,” he began, gently. “Surely you can offer my wife the same courtesy?” He raised an eyebrow. “I know you must be keenly aware how infrequently the galdori of Anaxas and Bastia interact with passives on anything like an equal footing.”

The Mugrobi shrugged, his hands open gently in front of him, spread wide and placating. He smiled at Kirrah. Neither he nor Niccolette had moved towards the open door that Kirrah had offered to them. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right to be angry. At home, we call your kind imbali. I attended Thul’Amat with imbali for many years, and… it disturbs me greatly to see how you are treated in this kingdom.” Uzoji’s eyes were wide, open and honest; his face was slightly sad.

Niccolette glanced up at him, and looked away, not looking directly at either him or Kirrah. She swallowed the hard knot of disappointment in her throat rather than argue, lips pressed tightly together.

Uzoji sighed again. “I know this has been difficult,” he said, quietly, looking from Kirrah to Niccolette, and then back to the passive. “Ms. Grey – we are here to work. We are new to working with Hawke, as you know. He has given us, all three of us, a job to do. You asked earlier what we were briefed on – we know that we’re to take you to the Muluku Islands and to accompany you there while you oversee some production.”

“If you’re still willing,” Uzoji raised an eyebrow, gently, his tone a soothing, understanding one, “we would be glad to get started on that mission.” His hand reached out and took Niccolette’s.

Niccolette’s lips pursed, her jaw clenched, slightly. She let Uzoji take her hand – she didn’t pull away – but neither did she clasp his hand in hers, at least not for a long moment. Finally, she exhaled out a long sigh, and looked up at Kirrah. “Yes,” she agreed, finally, her hand squeezing Uzoji's lightly, very lightly. “We should get started.”

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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Fri Aug 09, 2019 7:34 pm

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This people were ... unbelievable ... Kirrah took a few second to get every bit of anger coursing through her veins in check, recomposing her usual cold and aloof expression, as if nothing happened. She slammed the door, to make a point:

- Good, you’ve made your decision then, you’re in, for better and for worst

In her mind, Kirrah couldn’t help herself but to feel some naked contempt over Niccolette attitude. The alchemist didn’t even care that much for racial and societal tension: The Galdori were sowing the seeds of their own destruction instead of cultivating allies, and sooner or later, it would bite them in the ass. She would revel in any woe that ailed them, but she wasn’t on a crusade to kill them to the last.

What truly infuriated her was the sheer stupidity of someone barging into her own home to then have the gall to openly disregard her. Kerrah scowled, rolling her eyes in fashion: She was still divided about Uzoki, he was still a Galdori, through and through, but at least his own culture made him a bit more open minded. As for Niccolette, she was the exact portrait of why humans were calling her kind “Fucking gollies”. Being petty and stupid were a good way to get yourself killed while dealing into the shady business of the Bad Brothers. Amongst the thieves there is no eternal allies nor eternal enemies, only eternal profit and some bodies walking the depth with concrete shoes.

- I can deal with contempt. Be my guest... … but I can’t deal with amateurism added Kirrah mentally.

The passive was growing worried: Would these new goons be reliable? She’d rather not get herself killed cause Pippy and Squeaky here wanted to feel some adrenaline instead of the boredom of taking over daddy business.
Kirrah sighed, picking a large secured backpack containing a variety of required material and reagent to do her work.

I don’t know how knowledgeable you are about this whole operation, but I’ll take a guess and say “not at all”. Stepping on the Mukulu island as Silas Hawke envoy mean stepping in a very mudded territory. We’re dealing with the core origin of the Bad Brother economy, but also a place where they have no control at all, and where all of our enemies have dealing too. We’re there to check a new supplier and grower. If it works through, it’s a hefty deal, and probably a lot of future lucrative jobs opportunities for you and your crew, but everyone we’ll deal with there can be qualified as “shadiest”.

Kirrah took a map of the city.

– But before even reaching this point, we already need to make a neat exit of the city. You’re new hands, so you’re probably in the clear but I’m not. Meaning we’ll have to shake any tail before heading toward the underworld powder keg that is the Mukulu Island. For that purpose, Silas has already organized a smoke screen to cover for us. Our enemies have a limited amount of operative in the city, and if something big is happening, they’ll be focused on that. I don’t know what shenanigan have been planned this time but be ready for some chaos in the street. This deal is this important for M. Hawke and I’d rather avoid having to shake our tail once in the airs, cause all the way of doing it would involve untold level of danger.


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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Fri Aug 09, 2019 11:56 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
Kirrah's Lab, Old Rose Harbor
Kirrah slammed the door, grumbling at the galdori about contempt.

Niccolette tensed, annoyance sparking in her field, the faintest flare of the negative emotion seeping into the mona. Niccolette was already more than sick of Kirrah’s attitude – of her indecency – of her arrogance – and, most of all, of her disgusting, filthy lab. It looked, Niccolette thought, like a butcher’s shop. Before, she had thought Kirrah a sloppy galdor. It was one thing, Niccolette felt, to know the rules and choose to discard them.

It was another, and entirely much more frightening, to think that Kirrah had never learned them at all.

But the passive might at least have done half as well as Niccolette, and attempted to control herself. Niccolette supposed she was not capable of it - but it was terribly annoying.

Uzoji closed his eyes for a long moment. “Hulali’s tits,” the galdor grumbled, quietly. His field flooded with calm, and Niccolette glanced over at him.

Niccolette exhaled, slowly, and shrugged, the emotion sliding back out of the mona, her field settling down into its usual calm, indectal state once more. She squeezed Uzoji’s hand lightly again, and he clasped it for a moment with both of his, squeezing back gently.

The two galdori had let go of each other’s hands by the time Kirrah spoke again. Uzoji’s eyes were the ones to flick over Kirrah’s backpack, curious, but even Niccolette turned her attention to the passive when she began to talk.

Niccolette pressed her lips together, faintly contemptuous once more, as Kirrah began to explain the Muluku Islands to her. Her eyebrows lifted when Kirrah mentioned future lucrative job opportunities, and she glanced sideways at Uzoji.

Uzoji lifted his shoulders in the faintest possible shrug.

Niccolette exhaled through her nose. After living in the Muluku Islands for more than two years, she would have disagreed rather comprehensively with Kirrah’s explanation. She didn’t think it worth articulating though; for whatever it was she did here, she doubted Kirrah really needed a deep and subtle understanding of the Muluku Islands, and how the Bad Brothers fit in to the local economy and power structures. If, Niccolette thought, feeling more than a little annoyed, she was even capable of understanding it.

At least, Niccolette added to herself, Hawke had not gone so far with this creature as to tell her what he, Uzoji and Niccolette had planned. It was one thing to know this woman worked for him, that he found whatever skills she had scraped together useful. It would have been another thing entirely for him to have trusted her with such details. Niccolette didn’t bother to correct that misconception either; let them finish this errand, she thought. Perhaps she would never need to come across this Kirrah Gray ever again.

“We know a few things about the Muluku Islands,” Uzoji offered with a smile. “But, of course – you’re the expert, here in the Rose.” He inclined his head in a faint gesture of respect. "We'll follow your lead."

Niccolette glanced around, her eyes settling on the corpse. She paused, looking at Kirrah, at her backpack, and exhaled, slowly. “You mean to – leave it?” Niccolette asked, gesturing at the body on the table, her eyebrows raising. She cared not at all about the dignity of the corpse; it was immaterial to her. But the Brunnhold-trained living conversationalist, who had done her practicum in the Brunnhold hospital, found the thought of leaving a body to decay and the chaotic life that would result foul. “The trip is at least two and a half days each way. Not to mention whatever work we do there.” The Bastian galdor crossed her arms over her chest. “Surely you do not wish to have – ”

“Niccolette,” Uzoji said, quietly. “Please.”

Niccolette made a face, lips pursing, then shook her head, faintly. “I see. It is none of my business,” she tried to stop, but she could not quite manage it, “if you wish to have flies settle all over – whatever it is you do here.” She looked at Kirrah, eyes sharp and bright, field flaring faintly. “Not to mention those small animals who eat such flesh, and whatever they may carry with them. But I suppose you would not be able to tell if this place had yet more rats.” The Bastian folded her arms over her chest, raised her chin, and stared Kirrah down.

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Kirrah
Posts: 35
Joined: Sat Aug 03, 2019 5:23 pm
Topics: 8
Location: France
Race: Passive
: The viper
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
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Plot Notes: Plot Notes
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Sat Aug 10, 2019 8:39 am

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Kirrah rolled her eyes, but she somehow started to smile a bit more, even if slightly, starting to feel more amused by the dynamic comedy duo that was Uzoji and Niccolette. In all fairness, they weren’t trying to be funny, but there were just so out of place here, trying to play the part but obviously not having be raised for handling themselves in the cutthroat world of the Bad Brothers.

She was pretty sure that Uzoki might be traumatized for life if she were to flash her breast at him, as for Niccolette, drawing a line of filth on the ground would likely be enough to work as a ward against evil.

From a quick assessment, both gollies seemed to be more or less her age, but Kirrah recalled that not everybody had to grow as fast as she had to survive in the gutters by the age of ten. In her eyes, they were kids, if overgrown and likely more dangerous ones.

Niccolette seemed genuinely disturbed by the fate of the poor lad corpse on the operating table, no matter her reasons for caring, which amused Kirrah slightly, relaxing her expression. She then raised an eyebrow when the young girl took a pass at her with her “rats” comment, still more amused than vexed: Want to fight me on the field of grits? That’s a battle I can take you on kid.

- Thank you for your concern sweetie. I’m not too concerned about corpse though, at least, the rot is out for everyone to see. Some living people though are rotten on the inside, and it only show when they start talking ~


She cast a meaningful at Nicco, smiling slightly in a challenging way.

- I’d would’ve asked you to giving me an helping hand to offer this poor lad some decent burial, but I wouldn’t want to cause you some calluses, so I guess we’ll have to settle for a burial at sea

Kirrah walked next to the operating table, and crouched to open a heavy hatchway in a loud “Clang”.
A light but pungent smell spread in the room, indicating the hatch was clearly leading to the sewer way down. Kirrah rolled the corpse, making it fall straight through, and after a few second, a “splash” was heard.

-May you be wary in your next life not to get stabbed as much. Offered Kirrah as parting word.

She closed the hatch and then turned to her two pet gollies:

- It does lead to the sea though, mark me as a woman of my word.

She stood next to the door, with a slight provocative smile aimed at Nicco:

- Should we be on our way or does missy here would like me to do some dusting before we go? ~






word count: 492
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Niccolette Ibutatu
Posts: 80
Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2019 11:41 pm
Topics: 13
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: moralhazard
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Sun Aug 11, 2019 3:18 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
Kirrah's Lab, Old Rose Harbor
Niccolette rolled her eyes slightly at Kirrah’s attempts at an insult, looking away and giving her head the faintest of shakes. As if she cared what this passive thought of her! As if she cared, either, how this woman disposed of her corpse. The idea that the passive would need help she had not already arranged for to manage her own workshop was an appalling one to the galdor; she could not understand it. It seemed to her basic competence to be able to do such things with the set up one already possessed.

Uzoji sighed, quietly, although he didn’t interrupt. He rubbed his face lightly with one hand; if he felt any offense on his wife’s behalf, for all that she didn’t seem to, there was no sign of it anywhere in his expression. More than anything, he looked faintly exasperated, and the feeling seemed to be shared between Niccolette and Kirrah both.

Niccolette felt that Kirrah took an unnecessarily long time explaining – for someone who seemed to be in a hurry to go – before finally pushing the corpse into the foul sewer below. At least, Niccolette thought, disdainful, that explained some of the smell. The small Bastian sniffed, and was already at the door by the time Kirrah made her way back towards it.

The Bastian raised an eyebrow at the passive, lips pursing faintly. “I am sure you are trying to be insulting,” she said, her tone more than faintly condescending, perhaps edging into annoyed, but nowhere near angry. She swept out of the laboratory – not that Niccolette would, now that she knew what Kirrah was, have called it as such – without giving Kirrah time to respond.

Uzoji smiled at Kirrah, still friendly, clearly doing his utmost to ignore the petty sniping around him. “As I said, we’ll follow your lead through the streets. You're right - much better to shake a pursuit here than to be forced to do it in the air.” He followed Niccolette out into the alleyway with a last grin, and caught her a few steps down where she stood, waiting, next to the wall.

“Dear heart,” Uzoji said, very softly. “I know it’s a lot to deal with all at once – but – please, could you try?” He smiled at her, one hand coming to cup her cheek.

Niccolette swatted it away. She glared at her husband, words emerging through clenched teeth. “Uzoji Ibutatu,” she said, making no effort to keep her voice low, “if you imply that I should be quiet even once more – by her fearful symmetry – " The traditional bastian curse rolled off her lips as easily as the Mugrobi one had come from Uzoji’s – “you shall not like what comes of it.”

Her field flared abruptly, sharp and hot, and Niccolette let it flex outwards against his, let bright, living energy spill across the alleyway.

Uzoji pulled back, his lips pressing together as well. His field pulsed in response, automatically, and for a moment the two clashed in the air, sharp living energy against the heavy, solid weight of physical and static – but Uzoji didn’t hold the flex, lifting his hands in a gentle expression of surrender as his field doetoed beneath hers. “Understood, beloved,” he said, still smiling. “I know my wife.” He let a faint pulse of something warm wash into it, sweeping over her.

Niccolette glared at him, huffed softly, and turned back to Kirrah, raising an eyebrow at her. “If you are ready?” The Bastian snapped, and gestured past them, waiting for the passive to lead the way. Her field calmed, slowly, the hot sigiled tension leaving the air, until the alleyway felt normal but for the presence of the fields. Slowly, grudgingly, Niccolette let herself feed some of her own love for Uzoji back into her field.

The galdor could see Uzoji relax as the warm feeling swept over him, and Niccolette scowled harder in an attempt to keep from smiling, arms crossed over her chest as she waited.

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