etrayalogs | [ closed ] all that shimmers

[ Sevika was sure to send the time and place to Enki, but she and Silco? They would be here waiting well before that time came to pass. She'd tracked the room that occasionally appeared in the catacombs down, and tonight, humorously enough, it was a speakeasy, fully stocked. Meeting amongst the candlelit tunnels and bones had been a whim, but it seemed to have worked out this time.

That's where she left Silco before following the trail she subtly marked back to the entrance.

She'll return at the gatehouse, waiting for Enki and his so-called "thrall" to appear. A cigarette is already lit and absently being smoked as she does, her one (and only) elbow propped up on and leaning against the sign warning people off. In French, it exclaims in big, bold letters: "Arrête! C'est ici l'empire de la Mort!"

Of course, no kingdom of death would put someone from Zaun off, and the Dark Priest, too, she can't help but assume. ]

[Naturally death is nothing to deter someone like Enki, let alone its so called kingdom. Even if he should like to avoid its inevitability for as long as possible. At least until he can no longer achieve intellectual fulfillment, that is, but that is neither here nor there.

He had informed Ragnvaldr of ~~the bare minimum~~ the situation, and so once prepared for the trek, they had promptly set out to meet up at the appointed time. Of course with the cold and the snow, Enki is bundled up in a way which visually suggests (to someone who does not know better) that he has more body mass than he actually does under that black fur coat he dons. With Sevika seeing him previously without the five sweaters over his robes and under his coat, she might appreciate the comedic image he cuts.

A little like an apple on a stick in silhouette, really.

Even still, he looks rather tiny next to the man who joins him, his supposed "thrall". Enki is at least half a head shorter than him and half as wide otherwise, and he's clearly far less powerful in his strides through the snow comparatively. Not that it matters once they enter the catacombs and Sevika is in sight, but still Enki looks a little...miserable for the trip.

Or maybe he always looks that way.]

...Certainly could not have picked a more troublesome area. [Enki complains conversationally. He glances to Ragnvaldr, then to Sevika.] Must I introduce you?

[He doesn't really want to.]

I know how you despise pleasantries, Priest.

[Ragnvaldr is dressed well for the weather, but not overdressed by any means. He has a tunic, tights, his fur shawl. Notably he carries a bow, a quiver, and a semi-organic blade with absolutely atrocious vibes emanating off of it.]

[While it may have been a trek, but Ragnvaldr seems invigorated by it somehow. He is a tall, well-built man, and he offers her the ghost of a smile.]

I am Ragnvaldr. [He states plainly with a nod. She hadn’t actually given her name over the network, nor had he heard her speak yet.]

But you may pay me no mind.

Edited 2025-01-11 02:53 (UTC)

[ As much as Sevika wants to crack a smirk at Enki's layer-after-layer-after-layer fashion choice, she refrains. This was business, so she would deal with it like business; if she spots him like that outside of that, though, that'll be a different story.

In lieu of cracking a joke about the weather, she'll offer a nod to the two of them and her gaze is quick to snap to Ragnvaldr once she realizes it's a familiar face and voice. That wife guy? Enki's guard was the wife guy? Seriously? There's a moment where she just takes a long drag off her cigarette and simply looks at wife guy. ]

Sevika.

[ Short introduction, but yes, that'll be a familiar voice for Ragnvaldr. There, now she can push off of the sign and wave for the two to follow her. ]

This way. Don't wander off on your own once we're in the halls. This whole place may as well be a maze.

[ Then it's off down the long, long flight of stairs into the catacombs below. She'll follow the path she marked, although the marks she left for herself were small, low to the ground, and difficult to see if one doesn't know where to look. That was on purpose, just in case. ]

[Yes, it's the wife guy. Much to Enki's own chagrin, but what Ragnvaldr does in his spare time is none of his concern, really. If he must answer the call of baser needs, then so be it, Enki does not really expect otherwise. Though that matter is neither here nor there at the moment.

He appreciates the brevity of the introduction, he is not here for pleasantries or any perfunctory chitchat beyond what is necessary for the deal at hand. This is business, not a group social, after all.

At Sevika's warning and gesture, Enki follows, though he does give the caverns a scrutinizing glance.]

While we are no stranger to mazes, I have no interest in testing my ability to navigate them.

[Enki might have a keen eye, but he is not looking for Sevika's marks. Instead, he is looking at the structures of the caverns themselves, for telling landmarks that he might commit to memory should it be necessary. At worst, he could always find somewhere to carve a ritual circle, a blood portal would be a surefire way of escape if necessary.]

[At least hearing her voice did clue him in. He might have simple wants from life, but he was far from stupid. Honestly, he had no idea why the normalest thing ever, like wanting a wife, was looked down upon by virtually everyone he encountered here. But that was something to ponder later, for now he had to look sharp.]

[Ragnvaldr, for his part, is looking for some sort of tell-tale marking. It’s what he would do, but between the adjustment in his vision and the speed of their pace means that he has no hope of this on the way down.]

[But for his part, he says nothing but slowly edges to put himself between Sevika and Enki, as a guarding measure. ]

[ She'd already said her piece, meaning there'd be no wife-guy-shaming coming from her a second time. It was merely how he was cemented in her mind: wife guy, although she did recall his name from his network post just fine. Kind of hard to forget when someone makes that memorable of an introduction...

As it is, the sneaky little markers are more of a caution against other interlopers following them than any expectation it'll be used against the two of them. Sevika leads on through the twists and turns of the catacombs, empty-eyed skulls staring out and bone-built walls flickering in the candlelight, all the way up until she leads them around one last corner to a pair of supremely out-of-place doors.

They're more modern than the rest of the surroundings, and what she opens the door up to is as well. She leads them into a speakeasy — in short, a bar, though it's mysteriously high-end. A full wall bar of polished mahogany, fully stocked, red velvet bar stools, iron-wrought trimmings, and ample lounge chairs scattered around small tables. It, too, is lit by candle, lending it a dark and shadowy ambiance, especially with the complete lack of windows. ]

They're here.

[ She announces as she steps in, though it's to only the sole other occupant here, who's been waiting this entire time. ]

[ Waiting and smoking from the smell wafting out of the supposedly "high-end" Speakeasy. The man's wearing something that looks like a suit, cobbled together from parts that shouldn't work together, but they do. (He's had to do away with his shirt and vest, given that they're riddled with bullet holes.) Though his pants and boots look anachronistic to the rest of him. Just enough that he looks half-out of time — though like most, they're all from out of time and space, so maybe that's just how it is here. ]

Hm. [ He holds up a bottle in front of him, before he pours a glass for himself, then one for Sevika. A slight nudge of the glass toward her with a pinky just inches across the bar, before he indicated the two of them with the bottle. ]

Drink?

[ He asked, finally looking at them. From behind the bar the man looks... short, but it also leaves him backlit from the bar itself, which just adds to the drama of it all. (let him have this.) He's thin, hair slicked back, but one can't hide that eye, taking the both of them in. First the one who looks like they're in a fur coat, and then the other. Much less bundled up. Probably the muscle — they tend to run hot, and disliked being tied up.

Scarred lips twitched, and he didn't wait for acknowledgment. ]

Some sort of Dark Priest, are you?

[ He eyed Enki. Look, some people just have that kind of air. ]

[The journey through the catacombs with its bone-structures and skulls aplenty might unnerve some, but Enki finds himself oddly at home surrounded by the long abandoned remains of fallen men. There was always a peace to be found with the dead, far better than the chaos of the living. There is control to be wielded over that which no longer exerted its vexing will. There is certainly a comfort in death's inevitability, one of the few certainties in life, and if one accepts that, then life becomes far less frightening. Though, no less miserable.

A thought that he discards as they seemingly approach their destination. Speaking of uncertainties...

As Enki is lead into the curious little bar, he holds his expression as dour as it typically is. Though he does allow his eyes to wander around the area, taking note of its eccentricities (all of which he enjoys), but likewise the number of its occupants: one. Though now four. He doesn't sense anything bigger, no supernatural entities as far as he can tell, and so he continues forth towards the bar with an unwavering confidence.

Silco, however, is an interesting sight, he certainly knows how to make an introduction. It is entirely dramatic, but not too gauche in Enki's opinion. Were he ill accustom to seeing men with strange adornments and disfigurements, he might have been taken aback by that eye. Instead, he holds himself measured and outwardly unaffected, though insatiably curious inwardly.]

I am—and I will.

[Enki shifts his focus to the bottle, then back to Silco.]

Have a drink, that is.

Ja. Yes, please.

[His voice is a touch friendlier than his appearance, which radiates threat. Ragnvaldr is tall and broad and stands with presence in the space. Though he accepts alcohol freely, he figures it would have to be quite a powerful poison to disable them and leave this frail fellow whole.]

[Ragnvaldr does not simply sip any drink given to him with decorum. He will just throw it back and stand at the ready, whenever he is needed.]

[ It had better not be poisoned since Sevika is walking right up to the bar to retrieve the glass Silco's poured for her. She'll settle on one of the bar stools first, then nod towards the two. ]

This is Enki, the dark priest I told you about.

[ She motions towards Enki himself, but it's fairly obvious, and she's already let Silco know his name, but she can manage the introductions. Short and simple. Then, a wave towards Ragnvaldr. ]

And Ragnvaldr.

[ Obviously security. She had mentioned that to Silco, too, after she had finished setting up the meeting. Enki was pretty wise to bring someone along, even if neither she nor Silco planned anything underhanded. But there, introductions done... on one side, that is.

She'll allow Silco to introduce himself. He does love to add his own personal flair to just about everything he does, after all. From here on, until she needs to chime in? She will nurse that drink of hers and keep an eye on all three. ]

Hm.

[ He says in response. From this, one might think Silco is a man of few words — which of course is a lie — but he pours drinks for the both of them before setting the bottle down. ]

Where I am from, deals often start with something at least moderately pleasant, like drinks. [ Before the unpleasant business of give and take — of possibly compromising or not getting what one wants — comes into play.

Silco lifted his glass in a mock-salute, before he sipped at it, and set it down. Half for show, for comfort, because he knew well what types of people lurked in dark corners, or called themselves Dark Priests. Normally, in Zaun, they'd be some kind of paranoid religious zealot, so he's just keeping that model in mind for the moment. He remained behind the bar. As if he needed the extra layer of security with Sevika about. (he did not) ]

So, Enki, I am sure my associate has given you enough information to whet your curiosity enough to draw you here, but you must be Wondering...

[ He reached into his vest, toying with something underneath, pulling it out slowly. ]

Why would a recent arrival named Silco be so interested in what you can do, hm? I can't imagine most new arrivals have an idea of what they would want, or be interested in recreating things so quickly. [ The tube that he extracts is neon in hue, glowing as bright as his eye, though it is pink instead of orange. ]

But I've arrived with something that could make things very interesting.

[ purchased, arrived, it's all kinda the same, you know? At least for the drama. ]

[For Enki's part he watches Silco, then the others with a swift cursory glance, before indulging in his own drink. He holds it loosely with his long, bony fingers around the rim of the glass rather than cupping it in a more secure fashion. Of course he's wearing his usual green gloves which do little to hide the points of his nails beneath, lending to a rather dramatic visual of his hand on the glass. Adjusting his hand slightly, he takes a drink, slow and measured as it is, he keeps his eyes now solely focused on Silco.

After all, he's who he is here for, and he plans to give him his attention in full—especially after what he reveals.

Enki's dark eyes quickly shift from Silco to the vial, the color of the strange neon liquid pulling at his curiosity far greater than he'd care to ever admit. He cannot tip his hand too easily here, so really the swiftness of his shift in attention from Silco to it is the main tell of anything. His expression stays the same, unaffected, his mouth pulled into that neutral line that teeters more towards a frown than anything remotely more positive. He lowers the glass from his lips, placing it on the bar top. Then, he brings his other hand up to rest his chin upon his knuckles in a casual and detached manner, his elbow joining the glass on the bartop to support him.]

Sevika did court my curiosity, and she did not undersell—particularly in vaguity. [He flicks his gaze back to Silco.] What is this alchemical concoction? Sevika claimed it medicinal, but that is ambiguous at best.

[Take it from an opium addict.]

And before you try to appeal to my better nature: don't. I do not care if it is used for good or ill. I simply wish to know about it.

Edited 2025-01-19 05:15 (UTC)

[ Thankfully, they are from Zaun. Frowns, posturing, even a lack of interest in moral high grounds is what they deal in. They aren't here for pleasantries, and the drinks aside, there would not be any. Silco's smile is not kind, but instead it is sharp. He sees the draw in interest — in fact he understands it. This is what he deals in, after all. Interest, opportunities, and that ever-present grind forward.

His fingers delicately held the vial, spiderlike little things, and he tipped it this way and that, before he set it down on its side, and rolled it.

The liquid sloshed, glowing pleasantly. ]

It is power.

[ It's with a pop on the 'p', and he focused a mismatched pair of eyes on the man. ]

Highly addictive, it makes the weak strong, and the strong stronger. Distilled, it can be a drug with minimal side effects, or used as a medicinal tincture.

[ That eye of his, it doesn't blink. It's impossible, unless it was fake, or if it had been treated by... something else. Given the way it moves, his eyes darted to the vial, and then back to his face, probably not fake. ]

[ closed ] all that shimmers

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ok i'ma go ping silco to tag in now o7

no subject

no subject

Feel free to pass Rag’s turn until he is Needed or Spoken to directly

same, it's the nasty little twig men show now

YAY THE NASTY TWIG MEN HOURS!!!!!

They really are like if you put doll clothes on two evil pencils

HELP LMFAOOOO It's true