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[Graded]The King's Hand
Topic Started: Sep 26 2014, 04:43 PM (302 Views)
Gale
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Assassination Extraordinaire

It had been midnight when the assassin had received the note. Fully awake and alert, having already been informed that there would be a message delivered to his front doorstep in the darkest hours of the night, the assassin had been watching. Waiting. Listening and smelling and even more as the new equipment supplied to him, courtesy of Misriah Armories, simultaneously played hell with his senses and enhanced them beyond human recognition.

He heard the footsteps near the bottom floor of the apartment he was in. Smelt the man reaching for the note and heard him once more as he whispered a silent command term that Gale had little use for. Heard the note fold upon itself uncountable times, decreasing in mass with every fold before it vanished completely from existence, re-appearing without a single sound a meter in front of the assassin - a single piece of white paper, folded into quarters with clearly-defined black lines within it's creases.

Trillium. Elders Haunt. Special Request; Highest Priority. Tomorrow.

Crow.

Reading through the lines twice quickly, the assassin folded up the note once more and left it on his dresser, donning his cloak and grabbing his readied pack before locking the doors and resetting the tripwires on his temporary residence, opening the window of the third-floor apartment and leaping out of it silently, the winds carrying him above onto the rooftops, where his muffled footsteps could not be heard even by the most inebriated of late-night passer-bys.

The window latched itself shut as he left, the drapes drawing to a secure close as a wire stretched taut over the two panes.

The folded note vanished without a trace.



Elders Haunt was what many would consider to be a "classier" establishment - a large, variegated selection of fine alcohols and liqueurs, an experienced bartender skillful at mixing the most delightful concoctions of alcohol and human creativity, attractive entertainment options on show every night, and an ambient lighting that simple allowed the mood of the bar to thrive without restraint. A musician sat in the center of a raised platform which served as his stage as he plucked away at the chords on his guitar, playing a soulful tune as a pianist backed his melody up with a collection of his own keys, calloused fingers dancing gracefully across the black and white tiles. A female singer stood before both, a microphone propped up by a stand before her face as she sand songs of love and passion, her alluring but strangely reserved attire swaying with the beat of her song. A collection of customers - guests to this prized establishment - sat scattered throughout the bar on leather upholstery combined with a smooth redwood body, some of which were busy appreciating the entertainment and the others, their own drinks. Within these crowds women could be seen - young, attractive, well-dressed women with smiles that could eclipse the sun with their brightness - flitting about amongst the patrons, chatting softly and smiling gently before either settling down gracefully next to a guest, having come to a polite agreement over her services, or otherwise bidding a polite farewell before leaving to try her luck elsewhere.

A single girl - only just of maturity for this country and dressed in a casual outfit that was suited for both travelling and casual courting - sat at the bar counter, nursing a single cocktail of a golden sheen speckled with turquoise blue, silently drinking her beverage as she relaxed herself in her high seat, alone but not overly worried over that particular fact. Swirling her cocktail about within it's glass idly around underneath the barlight as the faint sounds of pool balls hitting against one another could be heard to the back along with a complement of low curses and suppressed whistles, she swivelled about in her chair as she heard the footsteps of a man who came up to her, all smiles and sweetness in his well-tailored attire as he slid naturally into the seat next to hers.

"So, tell me, what's a beautiful young woman like you doing alone on a fine night like this?" He said, smiling widely as his impossibly white teeth glinted in the light.

"Why, waiting for Mr. Right, of course - I've had no luck with him so far, but perhaps you know of him?" She responded, smiling warmly. His arched eyebrow told her that she could continue on speaking, and so she did.

"He's strong... confident... handsome, and smart too." Her words, dripping with honey with every accentuation, flowed out from between her lips with ease as she looked into the eyes of the man - eyes of a man that was neither whom she was looking for nor someone who would be looking for her.

"But, I'm sure that both of us know I'm not Ms. Right for you, and you aren't Mr. Right for me. The girl in the blue shirt, however..." Grinning slyly as she rebuffed his advances, a slight tap on his shoulder and a brief finger pointed in the direction of the girl giving the man a once-over from a distance led him to give up and change targets immediately - he was old enough to know a loss when he saw one, after all.

Turning back to her drink and giving it a sip, the girl continued to wait, flowing black locks nestled to her back as the songstress changed tunes from a ballad of love to a mourning of loss.
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Zen
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S-Class
With his arms around the two men's shoulders and a grin on his face, Sion looked like he was just out in town with two friends. In reality, what was going on here was quite a lot more important. A busy man, Sion had been out to find these two men and the third trailing after them for an important thing. All three were street thugs, not aligned with any guild. Rather, they were Sion's men, part of his network that stretched the country. Releasing one of the men and clapping him on the shoulder, he laughed. "Good! If the others win, you'll be out of work. Probably might get hanged, even." he added quietly. "Herad and Francesca don't care much for someone like me, and they might place blame on you lot as well. Stefan, on the other hand... Now he seems like a swell man. Right?"

The two men he was holding exchanged looks, then gave broken-toothed smiles that would have been at home on a torture victim. Though both were more muscular and taller than the boy, actually bending slightly because he was holding on to them, the younger man could feed them their own bowels for breakfast with one hand and compose a musical piece with the other. They were pants-shittingly afraid of him, but more importantly, they knew he was right. Should the government really start bearing down on the Dark Mages, they probably wouldn't make much distinction between people working for a Dark Mage for his independent job and for his Dark Guild job. They nodded and gave their acceptance, and Sion let them go. That was two.

Turning to walk backwards for a few moments, he looked back at the third man. He had been grimacing, and had been too slow to wipe the expression off his face. He nodded so vigorously Sion thought the man's head might fall off, and the third thug disappeared into a nearby alley. Giving a happy whistle, Sion turned to head on to where he was supposed to go. The men he had released before had blended in with the crowd and disappeared the moment he let them go.

Flipping his deep hood back, the Crow opened the door to Elders Haunt and gave a challenging grin when a fair number of the eyes in the establishment turned to him, weighing his worth or his Jewel pouch with their eyes. Indeed, he looked like a man from the higher echelons of society with his well-cut coat, fitting snug around the chest and flaring at the waist. From the cuffs to the hems hanging down to his ankles, the coat was embroidered with thin patterns of silver thread, most noticeably a silver crow taking flight across the right half of the chest. His pants were of fine cut and a deep grey color, and his brown leather boots had obviously been made for his feet alone. Most prominent, though, was the intricate silvery basket hilt that stood out from under his coat, the filigree centering around a blue gem that rested at a height with the black leather scabbard.

Some eyes widened, others swung back to drinks, potential customers, or women. Ignoring the few stares, Sion walked over to a face he knew - more from pictures and descriptions than actually having seen it before. The Crow saw everything, knew everything. Well, that was the facade Sion had built and kept up. Never reveal ignorance, never ask questions on the job. That was for others to do. Sion merely gathered and passed on. It was hilarious how easily people believed you were some kind of omniscient being when you flashed the right magic and said the right things. More eyes swung to Sion when he suddenly burst into laughter for no visible reason. Their stares only made him laugh harder, to the point that he could feel tears in the corners of his eyes.

Most people here knew him, though. Otherwise, he would not have let his laughter show. Oh, he was crazy, yes. More than a little. Shaking the humor off, he approached the girl and took the seat next to her. He said nothing at first, simply asking for a drink of his own - a cocktail that contained more than a little of a magical alcoholic substance usually limited to non-humans who would not be able to feel the effects of a drink thanks to their natural resistances. Sion was one such, as the barman knew very well. Taking a sip from the drink, Sion spoke without taking his eyes off it: "You must wonder why I asked you to come here. It's very simple, really. I know of people who share your particular... talents who have laid eyes upon a man who would be able to provide the both of us with quite some freedom in our movement." Turning to her, he gave a smile that could make the deepest winter snows seem as warm and comforting as a hearth fire. "Would you assist me in hindering their little project?"
Edited by Zen, Oct 13 2014, 10:36 AM.
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Gale
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Assassination Extraordinaire

"-why, he means to improve our education system, this Stefan. Would none of you fine gentlemen not like the schools that the children who are to become the foundations of our future and our country to be standardized, open to the public, government subsidized, and otherwise just that much better?" Said Akizuki, sitting on the same bar stool that she had been sitting on for the past half hour, having revolved the seat so that her back was rested gently and comfortable against the mahogany bar table, her cocktail placed atop a drink mat as she spoke to the band of men who had came to her, seeking "company", but had received a rather impromptu lesson on Fiore's current politics for Drunks. A band of five men, and a puzzlingly two women, dressed in garb that neither belonged to the upper class nor the lower and was strangely out of place for the middle, had greeted Akizuki, their smiles wide and phony, and made an attempt to start a conversation with her.

Having been on both ends of many an attempt on her personal belongings like this, Akizuki simply smiled, greeting them warmly and firmly and yet innocently, offering them drinks courtesy of her own funds and delicately skirting around any topics that would lead to an attempted mugging and a multiple homicide. By figuratively spinning the men and women in circles as they talked with her, picking out various facts about them as she went and delving deeper and deeper into their persons as she went, she managed to get them so utterly drunk that they had ultimately forgotten their initial motive for even approaching the girl. Rob someone of their possessions today they would not, for their inebriated state was so severe that some of them had difficulty balancing themselves upright whilst seated, but gain knowledge they would. As the seemingly-endless circumlocution progressed within a near-amicable environment, the topic of politics emerged.

A topic of which the inebriated seven knew literally nothing about. Which wasn't saying much of their normal knowledge, since one had forgotten her own name already, having accidentally ordered a frighteningly strong drink.

"Besides, the man is all for legalizing Fiore's dark side and keeping it under control, whilst taking the fight to where it really matters - Bosco. We lost people in Bosco, you, me, everyone. We beat them back, but what else? What did we do beyond taking back the borders that had been rightfully ours after they slaughtered our people and razed our cities and pillaged our livelihoods?"

Roused and very drunk, the drunkards sat up straighter nonetheless the moment Bosco was mentioned - and indeed, for a brief moment a spark of anger and hatred, backed by intelligence and determination, was seen within the eyes of many. They hated Bosco as much as everyone else did. They, too, had lost, and had experienced a hell full with not only the sinners and the sinned and the vile and the sly and the merciless, but with the innocent and young and whimsical and capricious and pure also.

They too wanted revenge.

"We did not enact our vengeance - we did not take our revenge. But what," Interjected Akizuki, cutting sharply into the actions of one of the drunkards as he started to stand, alcohol having mixed with anger to give him a rather sudden determination to invade Bosco himself. Patriotic, but foolish. "do you think you are capable of against an entire country of those murderers? Nothing. Nothing at all, because we are human and ordinary and angry. But Stefan, he has the power to change this all. He can rally our troops and sally forth beyond our borders and give us our vengeance."

A silence fell over the group as they drunkenly pondered Akizuki's words, before one of them got up slowly and milled off to a distant booth before slumping limply into the cushioned seats, no doubt contemplating something very, very deep. The others followed, slowly and dreamily, before at last Akizuki was left alone at the bar table, having sat through a highly rousing and inspirational and truthful speech that supported Stefan's antics without the slightest personal intention to support him, nor anyone else for that matter. His superiors had passed down suggestions for all of their employees to support Stefan, and had been no different.

Hearing the doors that marked the boundary into the Elders Haunt swing open with a wooden creak, Akizuki took a silent whiff of the air, taking in the scents of blood and flowers and silver and madness that accompanied the entrance of the very man whom she had been awaiting patiently. Hearing his sudden laugh and resisting the urge to crack a smile of her own in response as the Crow drew near - Akizuki being ever-so-biased towards smiling - she waited silently as Sion ordered a drink and sampled it, nodding in response to his statement about her wondering as to the nature of this request when the answer was one that he had came upon since he first recieved the request.

There was few things a man of his talents and history and reputation would ever be hired for. And of those few they followed the same general theme of murder and violence and subterfuge and espionage and lawlessness.

"Why, it would be my pleasure to do so, Sion Ciladion. It would prove to be very beneficial for the both of us, I am sure, in order to hinder their attempts." Smiled Akizuki, as warm and welcoming as the afternoon sun in the mildest of summers in contrast to the relentless winter cold emnating from the well-dressed gentleman. "Luna is doing well in Tessera, if you had been wondering about her own personal wellbeing. As fearful of the undead as always and as head-over-heels in love as a puppy, she is."

Downing the remaining droplets of her beverage, she set the money on the bartop, leaving a considerable tip before taking her bag and shouldering the burden.

"Shall we relocate then, good gentleman?"
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Zen
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S-Class
Sion laughed when the girl mentioned Luna. Little doubt that his friend had mentioned him, though was Gale's comment about being in love really necessary? It was only years of training at hiding his emotions when necessary that kept his cheeks from reddening, but his smile did falter for a moment. Hopefully this girl had no doubts that if anything happened to Luna because she told people that she was close with the Crow of Tartaros, Sion could and would trace it back to her and feed her entrails to the dogs. Not that he figured that would be necessary with this particular individual, but still.

Shaking such... unpleasant thoughts from him, Sion drank the rest of his barely-touched beverage down in one gulp, and the barman's eyes goggled. The stuff Sion was drinking was supposed to be strong enough to knock out an elephant if swallowed in one go, but the white-haired man simply gave a sigh of delight and grinned up at the man. A wolf's grin that made the man turn and suddenly scrub really hard at that completely-clean glass.

"So you want more bloodshed? Is that it?" Sion heard behind him, and he turned in his seat. A short man with black hair and a face red as a tomato from what looked like anger was arguing with a suited man and a lady in fine garments. "All Stefan will bring us by going to war is ruin! Ruin, I tell you! Bosco's a heavily militarized nation and fortified like a bulwark, and you want us to go rushing in? Those aren't going to be battlefields, they'll be killing grounds! Or did you forget that cannon they wiped out half of Hydrangea with?" the fellow shouted, cheeks puffing up.

With a snake-like grace Sion stepped off the stool and walked towards the man. "My good friend, do you not think you're discounting our generals just a little bit? We know how they fight, how they work now. Next time we will not be taken by surprise. And what alternative do you have? This country will go up in flames if the Council and the Royal Family turn themselves on the Dark Guilds." he said, gesturing towards one of the burning candles on the table.

"L-Lord Herad will crush the Dark G-" the man was cut off as Sion pressed the tip of a knife to his neck.

"Crush them, you say? My good sir, the Dark Guilds are still quite powerful. If you're so vocal in your dislike for the Dark Guilds, Errol, someone might think you a threat... worth dispatching." Sion said, that smile looking quite like a hungry predator observing a tasty morsel. The man went pale in the face when Sion dropped the name -his name- and tried to stammer a protest, but Sion turned away, the dagger disappearing into his sleeve with a flourish. "Indeed, madam. Let us."
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Gale
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Assassination Extraordinaire

Gale raised an eyebrow purposefully at Sion's laugh, pleasantly amused on the surface and silently watching underneath the veil as he analyzed Sion's reaction in an effort to understand this man to a greater degree. The assassin, like The Crow of Tartaros, had a rather extensive network of informants and acquaintances, though the Crow no doubt had the more intricate one, and like the Crow Gale had learned of Sion before he had come to Trillium for this matter. They said he was mad, that he was crazy, that he was brilliant and deadly and burdened with a chaotic past and madly in love with a girl called Luna Anne Nichole. The assassin knew all of that quite well, and trusted his informants quite wholeheartedly, but he wished to see Sion up close nonetheless. Not that he wished to slip in a threat in his words - he simply fished for reactions and was pleased with what he received.

Turning around silently as Sion moved to intimidate a man who had thought it apt to argue about Fiore's current politics, and against Stefan even after Gale had roped five people into supporting the man, the assassin moved only after Sion had finished with his knife and his threatening and his violence and intimidation. Wearing the guise of a gentle, graceful young girl, "Akizuki" moved to straighten the man, Errols, collar, patting the fabric down and smoothing it of any creases before smiling gently.

He stared in confusion, still afraid and shocked by Sion's antics and yet gradually becoming calmer.

Without so much as a warning, maintaining the exact same gentle smile, Gale ripped a poster of Stefan that had been tacked up on a wall in the bar on the far side of the room, a gust of wind blowing the poster into his free hand. Keeping the poster flat and even, the assassin slammed the poster into the chest of Errol, a stapler flying conviently into his other hand. Before Errol could even react, and with a strength that he couldn't resist, the assassin jammed the stapler into his chest above the poster.

He punched down, curved metal staple digging into Errols chest and piercing through his skin with ease, the short man screaming in pain and shock as the others looked on with a mixture of apprehension and disgust and fear and shock and pure bewilderment.

"Does it hurt?"

Gasping in pain as Akizuki's concerned voice wafted over to his ears, Errol nodded frantically, grasping his chest as if to rip the staple out.

"Good." She giggled, promptly breaking all the fingers on Errols right hand and stapling him twice more, causing him to scream ever the louder. "Now go and take a walk into the city center, would you? And don't try to take the staples off, will you? I'd hate to have to break your arm too."

Patting Errol on the back firmly and waiting the single second he took to scream and run out of the bar and presumably down to the city center, Akizuki shrugged and nodded at Sion's proposal gracefully.

"Lead the way, dear Sion."
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Inara Serra
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Honesty without tact is cruelty.

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