Seven(?) against the Convergence

[Drusia]

"This is -- most interesting. Thank you. I believe we can be of service to you. The next airship for Tsuiraku does not leave until morning, but by then Nansinu papers will be prepared."

Well that's something anyway. I was a bit surprised that we didn't end up waiting in the consulate. I assumed that's where we were going to talk about the airship. But maybe not? I mean, I have nothing wrong doing this somewhere public like we did the first time, using one of those silence field thingys. It just wasn't what I was expecting.

"Oh, wonderful!" said Anfisa. "Where should we wait?"

An increasingly good question. Anfisa seems quite the natural at all this. I wait for the response, wondering the answer to that myself.

-- Desiree

OOC: Still here. Slow as always on the weekends.

[Graybeard]

"Where should we wait?"

Yoneko thought for a moment, made a decision. "There is a secure room in the consulate that is sometimes used for housing -- important visitors. I believe this card qualifies you in that category. Come with me, please." She turned her chair around and headed back toward the main building, the unnamed security guard falling in step behind Anfisa and Desiree as another came out to take his place; they might be "important visitors," but they were still to be guarded.

----------------

[OOC: Gonna give Argus/Drannin just a little more time to respond to Layla, who would have seen him as a drunken guttermage back in Kiyoka, and if he doesn't react, I'll react for him. Events at the consulate are running just a little ahead of Tsuiraku-town, but we need to move this forward.]

[Alberich]

Anfisa acted delighted as she walked along behind the stranger, but was nervous about this talk of "secure rooms." What she'd really hoped for was to find an open inn, then have one of them come here. But this town being as shut up as Veracia after midnight, all except for this consulate, that had thrown a crimp in her plans and she'd just have to improvise. And try to cover their bases.

"Thank you kindly," she said. "I should tell you - we have some friends we've been travelling with. They might come asking after us in a few hours. If they do, we wouldn't want them to worry. I mentioned to them already" -- well, in front of them -- "that we were thinking of applying to practice our trade in your lovely country; but we wouldn't want them to worry about us if they came looking."

That left the initiative of what story to tell with the Tsuirakuans, but reminded them that they needed one to tell, and, she hoped, a reason to let them come out and see their companions if they did come by later...a chance to escape if the need arose. It also told them what her cover story had been, without explicitly admitting that it was a cover story. (Something about that janitor disturbed her, as if he wasn't a good man to admit the nature or even the existence of their services to the Tsuirakuan state in front of.)

Being shut up in the heart of a secure complex run by ruthless, powerful men...it was her whole life thus far, almost, but she figured that going along and playing straight with Kitaura made their best odds of coming out safe, free, and together. Better than being dragged along into danger after danger with Rose and "that other woman," that was for sure.

If the room didn't look wrong, she'd ask for writing materials before they were left alone - there were some things she wanted to jot down before she forgot them.

[Graybeard]

"License?" Yoneko wondered, then got the idea. "I... don't think there's much I can do to help you with that here. However, you should have few problems when you get to Tsuirakushiti." Kitaura should certainly be able to set something up in the bath houses; those were always a good place to have a few spies active, after all. "For the time being, simply rest and relax. I will leave word outside for your friends."

Desiree and Anfisa were shown into the waiting/conference room, which already had a double bed folded out from the wall, although minus some of the appurtenances that had been there when Layla, Faye and Zachary had used it. Filmy magic concealed Kitaura's personal shrine and did not brook investigation. "Feel free to rest here," the woman in the wheelchair said. "You will be awakened in the morning in plenty of time to get to the first airship for Tsuirakushiti, with Nansinu papers. Sleep well." A rather obvious magical lock flared as she left the room to go back to her watch station ... and read the information that was by now encoded on Kitaura's business card. That was almost certain to be interesting.

Some of the consulate staff, she thought, might also find the surveillance tapes of the next few hours in the conference room "interesting;" she doubted whether the young women were going to be doing too much sleeping ... but she had other things on her mind.

[OOC: You can assume that writing materials, etc., have been provided.]

---------

[OOC: OK, gonna put some words in Argus' mouth here, can't wait forever... D, please resume control of your mage before he does something we'll all regret. ]

Argus became aware that this attractive young mother, who hadn't given her name yet, was giving him a well-concealed, yet careful, once-over. Something about her face ... He snapped his fingers. "From the winery in Kiyoka," he said. "I remember now."

Now that Argus had said it, Sister Rose could see it too. This poor young woman had been widowed in some random shooting down at the waterfront. If rumors were to be believed, he'd been attacked by a troll ... which just went to show how outlandish some rumors could be. Obviously she'd left town after it happened -- just as I did, almost six years ago now, she thought, the pain still there if dulled considerably by the new relationship she'd found. Without even thinking about it, she squeezed Argus' hand. From the looks of it, this young woman had rebounded considerably more quickly than she herself had. However, the forms still had to be observed.

"I remember too," she told Layla. "Terrible thing, what happened to your husband. I'm so sorry for your loss."

That sounded sincere enough, Layla thought. Maybe she'll be okay. "Thank you," she said. "Yes, I had to get away after that, and start over, start a new life." She in turn squeezed Ace's hand in a gesture that was very much like Rose's. "I've managed. And you, Mr. -- sorry, I forget the name --"

"Cleiviein," Argus said, "but just call me Argus. Yes, I wasn't in the best shape in Kiyoka either. You probably remember me as a drunken guttermage doing cheap magic tricks to get by. I too have started over, and I have managed." By now Rose knew better than to expect (or hope for) an impassioned declaration of love as part of this speech; Argus just didn't do that. "Life is better now."

Layla smiled enigmatically. "It is. And if I recall, you were particularly good at earth magic, which is interesting, because between the Oshimas and that temple over there, and something weird that happened here last night involving an underground tunnel, we may have some things involving your magic to talk about."

Indeed we do, Rose thought, startled. An underground tunnel? With "things happening" just after the time Therese was kidnapped? And that figurine continuing to point to somewhere in Rinkaiel as the source of the danger Therese was now in? Yes, there were things to talk about ... and not much time to do it.

[Alberich]

"'For the time being, simply rest and relax. I will leave word outside for your friends."

"Oh, thank you," said Anfisa. "I don't think they know our benefactor by name, though." -- she thought this woman, knowing Kitaura, would understand the rest, and be subtle and discreet.

"You will be awakened in the morning in plenty of time to get to the first airship for Tsuirakushiti, with Nansinu papers. Sleep well." A rather obvious magical lock flared as she left the room to go back to her watch station.

Pretending more comfort than she felt, Anfisa flitted around the room for a a moment, admiring the furnishings. As she had on the airship, she stroked the wall and commented on the texture, then stroked Desiree's ear and did the same. She hoped the message would be clear.

"Well, it feels a little like home," she said. "Are you a sketch artist? Let's get some details down before we forget them." In particular she wanted to draw the artisans' marks she'd seen on the magical fixtures in the airship -- the pictures wouldn't be perfect but they might help Kitaura identify where these wonderful toys had come from, and that in turn might lead him to the shipwrights themselves, or something else of use. She also wanted to remember to tell him that the Veracian ship apparently took seven or eight hours to refuel, to most ships' one or two. (That Amalric might have been lying about that, and have some other purpose, this had not occurred to her.)

Anfisa's intent was to hold nothing back. The way circumstances had fallen out, they were simply in no position to bargain further - better to carry out their promises to the limit and hope Kitaura would see no reason to break his. And she didn't see why he would, Going to Tsuiraku together, as they wanted, would get them away from anyone who'd want to hear their secret, and what they knew wasn't all that damaging anyway (everyone already knew Kitaura was a spymaster, and if they had any brains they should assume he would gather information on Veraican airships; all they knew is that he'd used them to get some). Their price was low enough that he wouldn't gain much by stiffing them. Besides, she didn't like Veracia or its Church very much to begin with, and was glad to help the Tsuirakuans be better able to defend against them.

With so much magic and espionage around, Anfisa supposed they were being spied on again. Making love for a secret audience woudln't be as much fun if it didn't consist of a frustrated Veracian who -- in her imagination -- would be driven crazy by the sight of it. So they might do more resting than Yoneko was guessing.

* * *

Tim took in the conversations about the recent strange doings in Rinkaiel. He thought it best to keep his ears open and his mouth shut.

[Drusia]

Well, this is less than thrilling. Locked in a room, eh. Great.

"Well, it feels a little like home," she said. "Are you a sketch artist? Let's get some details down before we forget them."

"Not really," I reply. "I'm usually the model rather than the artist. Now, if you need someone to dance or sing, that I can do."

I glance over and realize that Anfisa isn't just drawing, but also taking notes. On the airship. Ah. I'd have prefered a verbal debriefing, but it seems we're supposed to leave a written report.

I pace the room again, then peer over Anfisa's shoulder. She's being quite thorough - I don't think she missed anything that I caught. Of course, she interpreted a couple things differently. While she busies herself sketching magical runes - from memory, very impressive! - I finally sit and take some notes of my own. Rather than listing my own observations, I produce a set of annotations to Anfisa's notes, noting a few additional observations, interpretations, or thoughts on the situation. I make sure to note any points where I observed things differently than Anfisa, which happened only rarely, and when I have additional insights into what might be going on, which proves to be almost as rare. Aside from her thinking that spell runes were some sort of makers mark, I don't note any overt errors. And, technically, I could be wrong and she could be right - I don't know enough about runes to be sure.

I finish quickly. Anfisa is still wracking her brain for more, but I'm pretty sure she's written down everything useful. I sit down...

...

... and sing a song. It's one of my mother's songs, so it has a certain "lounge singer" quality to it. Also, it is a bit lacking without a piano to back it up. And I'm not as accomplished a vocalist as my mother, although I do all right.

It's a romantic song, sad and wistful, about a romance that never happened, but could have if either party made the first move. The bridge of the song is a bit racy - the woman in the song imaging what a night together might be like - and ends with regret and longing.

I'm not sure why I picked that one. It just... fit my mood, somehow.

-- Desiree

[Graybeard]

No sooner had Desiree finished her song than there was a knock on the door, followed by a young-sounding, and rather tentative, female voice. "Miss? I mean, misses? I mean --" A listener wouldn't have had to stretch his or her imagination much to deduce that this pause was accompanied by a blush on the part of the speaker. "I mean, ma'ams? (I think that's right, anyway.) Are you decent?"

--------------

Well, fancy that, thought Sister Rose. This is exactly the young woman I've been wanting to talk to about that vineyard in Kiyoka. The one where I would love, so much, to settle down with Argus and ... raise a family. Luminosita does provide.

Which is ironic, all things considered.

First, however, there was a mission to be accomplished, and it sounded like this young woman -- "Layla," from the sound of it (maybe she'd changed her name when she moved back home; Rose knew it had been done) -- knew some things that would help her do it. "Tell me more," she said, and Layla described the weird earth tremors and upheavals from the previous morning.

"I think I know what that was about," Rose said when Layla had finished. "Is there any way you can take us there? Those people -- well, I can't think of another way to say this -- I think they might be holding a person we're very interested in rescuing from them." Although I'm still not sure why I'm so convinced of that.

"Those bastards," Layla hissed, the vehemence quite surprising Rose. Then she caught herself. "Sorry. Let's just say it wouldn't be the first time..."

[Alberich]

Anfisa had been dreamily lounging on the bed, listening to Desiree's soothingly sentimental song...

[OOC: I'm hearing some bossanova here 'cos you didn't make it sound like more BŎC.]

...sometimes keeping still, sometimes moving languidly to its rhythms, sometimes gazing on the singer adoringly, but not uttering a sound or venturing a touch, so as not to interrupt the magic. She wasn't a singer herself, and had been thinking it would be her turn to provide the entertainment next, perhaps with a Gorielian folktale, when the knock came...

"Miss? I mean, misses? I mean --I mean, ma'ams? (I think that's right, anyway.) Are you decent?"

Anfisa reached over to the night table where their notes and drawings were, and turned them over. She hoped Desiree would undersand the meaning of that gesture.

It wouldn't do to assume this girl knew anything of their mission, or reveal it to her, either. Servants could be spies. Nor would it be wise to say or do anything to hint the slightest distrust of Kitaura or desire to betray him. Servants could be agents-provocateur, too. For that matter, this could even be that damnable Therese, in one of her oh-so-perfect disguises, or one of her devoted female legion, on an errand worse than espionage. Servants could be thieves, of money and of hearts. She wouldn't trust whoever-it-was without some damn good proof.

"Not by Veracian standards," she said, "But we're kind. Come in!"

* * *

"Is there any way you can take us there? Those people -- well, I can't think of another way to say this -- I think they might be holding a person we're very interested in rescuing from them."

"Those bastards. Sorry. Let's just say it wouldn't be the first time..."

"And on the way there," added Tim, "could someone tell me and Tamina who those people are and what they're capable of?"

[Drusia]

"Miss? I mean, misses? I mean --I mean, ma'ams? (I think that's right, anyway.) Are you decent?"

Anfisa reached over to the night table where their notes and drawings were, and turned them over. She hoped Desiree would undersand the meaning of that gesture.

"Not by Veracian standards," she said, "But we're kind. Come in!"

I bite my lip to keep from laughing at Anfisa's comment. The girl does have a way with words.

I stand up to greet our visitor.

-- Desiree

[Jack Rothwell]

"And on the way there could someone tell me and Tamina who those people are and what they're capable of?"

"Are they bad men?" The kobold inquired, waving a claw-laden hand. "Do they need the scratchy-scratchy?"