::It's a typical night in Wistvale. The air is warm and the streets are lit with torches to help guide those not yet home to hteir intended destination. Noise comes from Taverns open late to accomidate their patrons looking for a way to ease the stress of daily life.
For whatever reason you find yourself wandering the streets. Your footsteps carry you past a moderately well kept building in one of the darker corners of town. Red tinted lenses color the torchlight coming from the building as music and laughter can be heard coming from inside. A sign over the door marks this place as being "The Budding Rose".
The laughter cuts short as you walk by and is replaced by yelling, both male and female. A man stumbles out the door, followed by some rather underdressed woman calling after him...::
"I TOLD you! I AIN'T payin' for flarbin' shoddy service!"
"FINE! Just return what you stole and get out!"
"I Didn' take NUTHIN! And even if I did, good luck getting the Sentinels to care about a bunch of flarbin' backworkers!!"
::The man turns and begins to wander down the lonely street as the women turn to console one of their own that's in tears.::
((For Dionne and anyone else that wants to have been wandering by))
"What a douche..." Dionne thought to herself, as she strode by the scene. Usualy, it'd be none of her buissness, but after working in the industry herself, Dionne knew how misrable the life can get.
Without a word, she begins stalking the man, trying to spot what it was, that he stole.
Deerfield had become to be a Sentinel not very long ago. He was still very reluctant to wear the according insignia and colors, and not many of his friends and aquaintances knew about his newly achieved status. Until he was fully seated within the Sentinels' ranks, he wanted to keep his new job under the lid to a certain extent; but everywhere he went, he was beginning to observe and judge the scenes more and more out of a Sentinel's perspective.
He wore his normal armor, nothing could really out him as a Sentinel except his purple shirt, which was fully covered. Deerfield walked along the streets, looking for a good time as he would usually do. But everywhere his sight fell to, he saw questionable activity, risks to public safety, and people in need of a strong arm to set things straight again. The more he did to help the unarmed powerless citizens, the more he felt like a hero. It was exilerating, and maybe he would start to wear the Sentinels' armor and uniform in his free time as well, sooner than he planned.
But he was still a man, a man with a big appetite for wine and women. He wandered the streets in this area, looking for a beauty to please with his service and coin when he saw what happened as it had happened right in front of him.
Deerfield tried his best to memorize the man's face in the dim red light, squinting upon the scene. He definitely wanted to help the woman, no matter her social ranking, since he still remembered being on the very bottom of society's ladder himself. However, if there was one thing he had learned in his adventurous life, it was to not start a fight just upon the words of a woman. He wanted a bit more than what he had heard to ease his conscience into following the man and beating stolen and owed from him.
When the man had turned and started walking, he went to the women. He made them know he was there by silently talking and touching arms and shoulders. "My name is Deerfield," he started, not realizing that maybe some of the girls would recognize him or his name and start rumors that would make him look bad among the Sentinels, "tell me what happened here. Let me help you and serve justice."
He would have done so even if it had been before he joined the Sentinels.
She started dancin' real slow, like she was puttin' on a show.
Wet sweat was pourin' off her skin, her body made me wanna sin.
Right then my buzz was kickin' in, she had a devil's grin.
She looked me in the eye and said: You give me the urge!
To do a little day drinkin'
A little bit of love makin'
A whole lot of world shakin'
'Cause it's never too late to get low down dirty!
Lynyrd Skynyrd - Low Down Dirty
The commotion had Marlena lifting her head as she left a nearby building, her fingers brushing the door frame and lingering as she took a moment to take in and work out what was going on. She didn't venture to this particular area often, though it seemed a popular place to hold meetings that 'never happened'. As such, Marlena was no stranger to The Budding Rose, the girls there generally seemed happy enough and polite too, though she expected nothing less. A person's job doesn't have have anything to do with their personality or make them any less worthy of respect, with some exceptions of course.
The man was right though, despite their love of the service, it seemed like the Sentinels, nor many others for that matter, cared about the women who provided it. She'd been meaning to do something about that, maybe place some members of the Tryst on a sort of security detail, but she'd yet to follow through on the thought. The man that approached the group however seemed one of the rare few to care, a well meaning fellow that would try and probably fail to help. It at least reminded her that some people still had common decency.
The accused man began to wander away and with another girl in tow, though he didn't seem to notice that fact. She certainly wasn't one of the working girls, but there was a look of determination about her, almost as if she intended to play the hero and retrieve the stolen item. Would be an interesting scene, a young woman taking on a drunkard, over quickly, but a decent spectacle none the less. Should the man be guilty, definitely warranted.
While Marlena had no interest in listening to a distraught woman wailing over a trinket or something of the like, she was certain she had seen the woman following the man before. The tavern more likely than not, there was little entertainment to be found elsewhere and the walk back to the manor would be boring. They were a good distance ahead of her by the time Marlena began to trail them, but that was fine by her, it wouldn't take long to catch up.
Last Edit: Apr 29, 2014 14:59:32 GMT -5 by Marlena
::Following the man, Dionne can see him draw something out of his pocket. The light reflects of something small and metallic with a bit of chain dangling down. She can see him looking down at it as he walks. After a few steps, two tiny scraps of...something...flitter down in his wake...
Marlena is a bit too far behind to catch what the man is doing, but does not appear to be noticed by the people she is following.
Deerfield is met with a rush of information from the still upset women. Speaking all at once its a bit hard to get the information out, not to mention he is probably distracted by their attire...or lack thereof...
Eventually he is able to piece together that the man that just left had paid for services from a woman named Sadie. At some point after they were...together...he refused to pay. As the argument ensued, Sadie also noticed a locket she kept on her bedside table was missing. The only trinket left from her family.::
Miroslaw heard the commotion and fully intended to pay it no attention. That was the case before he noticed his friend Deerfield approach and start talking to the prostitute. He sighed deeply as he decided to approach the scene as well. He did not see the man at all, as he came in late.
He walked closer to Deerfield and his conversation, trying to pick up what information he could. After the woman was done bumbling out words, Miroslaw asked Deerfield, "So... What's happening?"
Last Edit: Apr 30, 2014 10:17:32 GMT -5 by Miroslaw
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
The warm air brushed her hair, as she stalked the drunken man. From where she was, Dionne was not quite certain as to what he was holding, but gathered from the state of the woman, that it was dear to her.
Was it not for her previous expirience in that kind of a buisness, she would have left it alone. It wasn't her problem, nor would she gain anything from it - yet the ghosts of her past woke up what little there was of her compassion.
She felt rather comfortable on the fact that the man looked unarmed. Knowing that anything he would be able to pull off, would be rather short as it was rather difficult to conceal something like a claymore, Dionne knew that in a combat situation, she should have the advantage of the human.
Only thing that concerned her was his size. He looked only slitghly higher than her, but definitively bigger. And she remebered just too well what happened last time she was against a bigger guy..
Even in the dim light, she was able to see his receeding hair line. "Well, that works in my favour." Dionne thought, as she considered her options. This human did look quite old from where she was, and if she could get the element of surprise, she could make quick work of him.
But she felt remorse at the thought. Dionne promised to herself, she wouldn't kill no more without reason. Keeping several feet distance away from her prey, she tried to figure out best way to deal with the situation.
Combat was out of question. She was trained to kill, and unless it came to it, Dionne did not want to kill the man. Thieviery isn't a crime for capital punishment, although using these kind of services without paying might warrant castration. That'd teach him to be ever so slitghly honest.
Her mind lingered on the thought of just returning the favour. Should she be able to just steal whatever he had back, then everybody would be happy. Except the fact she wanted to make him learn respect.
As a little plan formed around in her mind, Dionne sped up her step. Not enough to catch up, but to limit the distance to just a few feet, getting a closer look, and trying to spot if it'd work, but first, she'd need to stay undetected untill making sure that it was possible.
Apologising to her mother silently for what she was about to do, Dionne prepared to make her move.
While she could hear the steps of those ahead of her, Marlena's were silent as she moved forward to match the pace of the woman. Either the man was just that drunk, completely dense or the woman had skill, because it wasn't to short of time that they had been walking. Most would have gained a sense that they were being followed by now. She had no doubt in her own skills, but maybe this little trip would be more worthy after all. There was always need for someone with a knack for staying unnoticed.
As she continued, her eyes were drawn by something on the ground before her, two some things to be exact. The few street lamps were enough to show the difference in colour between paper and paving. Stopping for the briefest of moments, she crouches and reaches for the small ovals, portraits, like that which would be kept close to the heart in a locket. No need for it to be expensive, but such a thing would be priceless to some. It was suddenly clearer what had been taken and though she had nothing so valuable of her own, she knew returning a locket without them would be pointless.
Placing them in her pocket, she moved swiftly to catch up, closing in a little more than before. The woman could do as she wished, recover the trinket and Marlena would give her the portraits to return to the brothel as well. That would be Marlena's good deed for month.
::Miroslaw get filled in on what happened by Deerfield, with emphatic side comments from the girls present.
Dionne creeps forward, with Marlena closing in behind unnoticed. The man is either too drunk to notice, or too distracted by his recent conquest and seems to pay no mind to those trailing behind. Having looked at the pictures she retrieved, Marlena would note the well done sketches of two happy Cathians. One male, the other female.
Bird calls can be heard calling out in the night. Those dabbling in Biodiversity (1) would know its the call of a bird local to Wistvale. Those with higher ranks would know the bird is not nocturnal.::
Miroslaw didn't like the idea of paying for this kind of service, but he disliked the idea of not paying even more. Surely if the man was serviced, he should pay. Not only did he not pay, but also stole a trinket of some nature.
"No worries. We will get the trinket back for you, an probably some pay while we are at it." The "we" was for him and Deerfield, whom he assumed would join him in the pursuit. With that, Miroslaw would begin off in the direction the man went, at a brisk jog. He paid no mind to subtlety, only catching up before it was too late.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Being in possession of a and spontanious, short term focused mind, Deerfield's intent changed quickly in the middle of communicating with the women. They were telling him something about "... the usual I guess. I don't understand why these girls still bother to cry when evil strikes them. Get on with it." And he knew exactly how she could "get on with it" and resume exacting coin with her profession.
He barely listened to what the bunch was whining about after very little time and started eyeing their bodies, packed and prepared to seduce. And seduce him they did. Deerfield couldn't focus, and was just about to tell them all to shut up and get over it, and join him on some drinks and whatever else would follow when he was taken the chance with Miroslaw's appearance.
Deerfield felt much respect and friendship for Miroslaw Zygmund, but the Soren's timing was horrible. "Who cares about the stupid locket anymore?" he thought as he filled the warrior in on what had happened, trusting more on the women repeating the information.
When Miroslaw said what he did, Deerfield approved reluctantly and jogged the first few feet behind the Soren, but then ran slower and slower until he came to a full stop again. He turned around, hoping Zygmund hadn't noticed and would continue after the suspected criminal. He walked back to the women who were still in an emotional state of mind. He put his huge smile on and talked in his convincingly warm and friendly manner.
"I can't leave you alone, this must be a horrid experience. My friend is sure to retrieve your item and coin. I have come to trust the man, who I assure you is quite talented when it comes to physical quarrels. Let us wait for him inside your establishment. Things always seem half as bad over a nice mug of ale. Come on ladies, you don't want to cause a scene at your businesses doorstep now, do you? First rounds on me!"
He was sure he would have a nice shag later that night. Maybe he would teach her some funky tricks that would help her avoid future payment refusals from unsatisfied customers? Sure.
Last Edit: May 3, 2014 6:57:49 GMT -5 by Deerfield
She started dancin' real slow, like she was puttin' on a show.
Wet sweat was pourin' off her skin, her body made me wanna sin.
Right then my buzz was kickin' in, she had a devil's grin.
She looked me in the eye and said: You give me the urge!
To do a little day drinkin'
A little bit of love makin'
A whole lot of world shakin'
'Cause it's never too late to get low down dirty!
Lynyrd Skynyrd - Low Down Dirty
Dionne knew her time was running short, the bird call being suspicious at this time of the night. The longer she wasted time, the less likely that it'd work. Catching up to the man and placing a hand on his shoulder and making sure she had a grip in case he'd run, she whispered;
"Hey, you seemed a little..unsatisfied so to speak with the ladies there, I'm sure I can give you a better ride for free.."
Trying to appear as desperate as possible, Dionne tried to seduce the man into taking her home. Were he to refuse, there was always plan B.
Marlena noticed the sudden urgency in the woman, making her way forward to lean against the side of a building as she watched. She couldn't help the smirk that appeared as she saw the attempt at seduction. The woman was good, not great, but good and from her own experience, someone that had such skill was either taught, or practised. It occurred to her though that this drunken fool probably wouldn't need so much encouragement, a flutter of eyelashes would have probably suckered him in, whether or not he'd fall for the offer of 'free' was another thing entirely.
::Deerfield found that the woman who was the victim of the theft, a young Cathian with obviously dyed black hair, was not in the mood to "work" at the moment. Most of the others continued to console her as a few drifted off to men and women that they had already started spending time with prior to this outburst. One walks over to you, trying to hide her distaste at your insensitivity behind a smile. She takes your hand and guides you to a table.::
"And what is it that a handsome like you would like?"
::Dionne manages to catch the man and he turns a drunken eye to leer at her as he shoves a hand deep into a pocket as if stuffing something there. Whatever hesitation he may have had over the "free" comment was lost to the cloud of alcohol.::
"Well, hey there, little lassie. Why don't you come with..."
::His eyes go wide as he looks past your shoulder and he tries to turn away and run the other direction.
Marlena, always the keen observer, sees this exchange and hears the sound of something big coming up behind her at a rapid pace. She almost missed noticing a shadow moving on a nearby rooftop as the birdcall sounds again.
Miroslaw jogs the short distance to catch up with the crook. The first thing he sees is a woman leaning against the side of a dark building. Ahead of her is another woman that seems to be in talks with a man. From the way he is swaying, he seems to have enjoyed more than his fair share of drink tonight. Whatever conversation he was having with the woman breaks off suddenly as he sees you coming towards him and he is turning to try and run away.::
With a sigh Dionne resorted to plan B. She did want to do it the easy way for the man, but the approaching giant of a man, ever so slitghly made her change her plans.
She pulled down on his shoulder, and with a sweep put the drunk to the ground, going down with him. Taking a dagger out from behind her belt, she ran it across somewhere no man would like a dagger.
"I guess we'll do it the hard way. What did you steal, and why? Also, I'll be taking the payment." Being intimidating wasn't her thing, yet she tried to give it a good shot.