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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Feb 16, 2023 14:59:54 GMT -5
Izzy struts her way back into the desert city, breathing in the wonderful smells of the food and clamour of the high market in a deep, long breath. Home, sweet home. She looks down at her new charge, grinning sideways as she taps the ash of the end of her cigar. The familiar crunch of sand encrusted cobbles under her boots, the angry shouting of customers and vendors alike-- what wasn't to love?
"Now this here is the best part of Zeinav; it's the beating heart of folk like us. All the good stuff happens right here-- the food, the people, the mysteryyyy," her fingers splay outward in a gesture of awe and disbelief. "It's make or break on these streets, kid, but stick around me, and you'll be juuust fine."
While that was debatable, Izzy had no qualms about helping out the kid. She was from some back water place that wanted to cause problems for the 'different' and the 'strange', and that was enough for Izzy. Zeinav wasn't perfect, but she understood it better than anyone.
Well. Almost anyone.
Turning to Azalea, maintaining her stride as she walks backwards to face her, Izzy sweeps a hand along to show the teenager what she's talking about. "Now, Sparks, first things first-- your clothes ain't gonna cut it. It's dry as a mummy's eye socket out here, and sandstorms kinda do what they want when they want to do it. Also, not a bad idea to have something you can change the look of on the fly in case you need to adjust how you look. Now." She claps her hands together, looking at the bevvy of stalls they had to choose from. "Go on and take your pick. I'll keep an eye out for fast hands."
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Post by Azalea Euanthe on Feb 16, 2023 16:18:16 GMT -5
Izzy was really selling the place. While the tiefling walked around like she owned the place, she was trailed by someone who clearly did not. Azalea stuck to Izzy like glue, clinging on to a part of her shirt, afraid of getting lost or… stolen, which looking around this place, was quite a possibility. “This place is so different than home,” she says to Izzy, despite the fact that “home” was closer than one would think.
They arrived at the stalls, and Azalea looked up at izzy as she spoke. “I can choose…. Whatever I want? But I don’t have any money..?” Of course that was her concern. Growing up in her village, she never really had to worry about money. Here, it was different. She wasn’t home anymore.
Nonetheless, she did start browsing, looking more so at things she would think is comfortable rather than useful. While she did not really have a specific taste, it was fairly clear that she had like, no sense of fashion. She was always more worried about comfort than she was looking good - no one was paying attention to her back at home anyways.
She pulled out a dress - a frankly terrible looking dress - and showed it to Izzy. “What about this…?” Azalea looks at it and frowns. “It’s kind of expensive…”
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Feb 16, 2023 16:58:24 GMT -5
It was a sweltering day in the High Market of Zeinav City. Despite the sun relentlessly beating down on the sandy streets, the colorful and bustling markets were still as crowded and loud as usual. Vendors call out to anyone passing by who may look like they have some coin to lose while the Sultan's Corps patrol the streets, keeping an eye out for pick pockets or any bartering that got too rowdy.
Zarius stands in the shadow of an awning, leaning back against the wall of a building with his hands tucked in his pockets. His golden eyes scan the passing crowds of shoppers and tourists in search of something. Or someone.
He was here on work, as usual, but this time he left Eirynor and Snow back in Darkveil. Snow really didn't handle the desert heat particularly well, and Eirynor was needed at the Rookery while Eameia was busy helping their mother and father with the family business.
The charcoal skinned tiefling glances across the shifting crowd of people of all races, sizes, and shapes. It was difficult to pick out any single person amongst all the protective layers of colorful fabrics and headdresses that keep the sun's rays off one's head.
Still, this was the best place to do what he needed to do. After all, the busy markets are prime locations for snatching a purse or two without the victim being able to tell which of the dozen people surrounding them actually committed the crime.
He wasn't after just anyone though. No, he had a very specific target in mind. It was just a waiting game for them to show up so he could make his move. In the meantime, he just stays in the shade and watches the people pass by. Most he pays no mind to, that is until some of the crowd parts for a couple of conspicuous individuals.
The first one he spots towers over the heads of most average folk. Her skin is a striking white with curly red hair draping down her shoulders. She walks as if she owns the streets and has little regards for if she is about to walk right into someone. To be fair, people are pretty good at getting out of the tall woman's way well before that happens, though they aren't too happy about it.
Trailing behind the woman is a much shorter individual who appears quite young and timid by comparison. She looks lost and out of place, even more so with her fiery tips of her blackened hair and ember-like eyes.
Zarius watches them as they approach the stall that he is next to which has a selection of dresses better suited to the desert than what they were currently wearing.
It's far too easy to eavesdrop when they are attracting so much attention and he catches the gist of their conversation. Seems that the young girl was in the care of the tall tiefling woman. An odd pairing for certain, but he ran around with some odd folks himself, so who was he to judge.
The young girl picks a dress that was ill suited for her complexion and frame. The tiefling glances around the stall and spots something that may better suit her hidden towards the back.
Shifting his weight a bit, he looks at the back of the head of the shop vendor who is just about to start his sale's pitch to convince them to buy the horrendous piece of clothing for an exorbitant price. A wisp of smoke leaves his lips as incomprehensible whispers reach the man's ears and his eyes gloss over.[1]
The vendor retreats to the back of the stall and pulls the other outfit off the hanger before returning to the pair. "If I may, I think this would look lovely on you. I can sell it to you for a modest price."
[1] Profane Command (1/2 post duration)
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Feb 17, 2023 15:36:38 GMT -5
"Dooon't worry about the coooin," Izzy flaps a hand, flicking ash every which way. Her smile is magnanimous; gosh, she was just so damn generous. "It's on me. Consider it a 'Welcome' present from ya girl." she gestures to herself with a wink.
Even with the act of good will inflating her ego, it did simultaneously serve the genuine purpose of it. Izzy knew what it felt like to constantly have to worry about money, and finding a place to be. The kid-- Azalea-- needed a sense of somewhere to belong to, to help her feel stable. Looking more like a local would smooth that process. Once Sparks had her feet under her, the rest would come easy, she was sure. The kid was smart. Once she taught her how to be street smart, Azalea would be unstoppable.
The Market is in fine form today. Despite the joviality and the candor, Izzy's eyes sweep the area around her and her new charge. Nothing untoward. Some eyes watching them, even some nearby, but nothing malicious or ill-intended that she could sense. Especially after the whole... incident leading up to the Night of the Red Rogue, it felt reasonable to be a little more wary than normal. Though, if her instinct was correct, the shame of the loss of the gold bars after a failed entrapment attempt hopefully had caused the authority to simply disavow the whole operation. Or, maybe that was just Izzy being hopeful.
In either case, she probably needed to establish a safehouse and a system with Sparks so she could stay safe in case things went South. When they went South. Better to treat it like an inevitability than a possibility.
As Azalea holds up the dress, Izzy turns to look. ...oogh. She doesn't quite cringe, but a scowling, disapproving voice jumps into her mind. She knew if she brought Azalea around her sister's place dressed in that Izzy would never hear the end of it. 'IssaLA, how could you let her be SEEN in that? Have I taught you nothing!', she would say, shaking her finger up at Izzy. It would never end.
More to the point, though, Izzy knew what these merchants were like. She tilts her hand back and forth as she approaches, thinking the merchant who had gone to the back was going to get his ledger to write up a receipt of some kind. "Eeehhh, well--"
The suggestion from the merchant, as he comes back with a brand new outfit for Azalea, cuts off her words immediately. Izzy's brow arches at a sharp angle as her eyes snap to his face. It's... good. A great choice, even. A nice cut, good colour, better fabric... The ever-present, metaphorical voice of her sister simply says 'that will do', and that in and of itself speaks volumes.
Weird.
The smile flashes into place, bright as the sun in the sky, as she puts a large, heavy hand on Azalea's shoulder. Simply offering her presence, a comfortable, friendly hand of companionship, as she leans in to get a closer look at the garment, and the merchant. "Saaay, that's a hell of a find! That would look great on you, Sparks," There's a slight tilt to her head as she looks the man over. This was highly unusual. Such charity? In the High Market? Not bloody likely. Something was up, but she hadn't quite got a sense for what yet, but she didn't want to alarm Azalea; right now, there was no cause for alarm, anyway. She wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth.
His eyes, on the other hand...
"Now, when you say 'modest', how modest are we talking? I'm prepared to haggle, if need be..." Her brows waggle enticingly. Merchants loooved to haggle. Not as much as when people freely purchased a thing at the overinflated price point they set, but, the streets were full of the back and forth of pricing and trade.
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Post by Azalea Euanthe on Feb 17, 2023 16:29:11 GMT -5
Somehow, Azalea found comfort in Izzy’s demeanor. She’s so comfortable with herself, and it’s how Azalea wishes she could be. Unfortunately, the entire situation at hand just sort of made her want to hide a little. It was so weird, she was never like this back at home. She had heard stories about the Zeinav city market - Mostly ones from her parents, warning her to stay away. People got stolen from there. People got stolen there. Of course, while Azalea was alert and aware of her surroundings, she was sticking very close to the one person she trusted here.
Watching Izzy, she could tell what she was doing. Scanning the area, looking out for people. She knew the look too well- she would do it all the time at night, when she would go to pick flowers. That was part of the reason she chose the dress she did - It had flowers on it, and it was green, like the color of desert grass. She thought it a cute little cottage dress, though it did seem like something a very poor farmer girl would wear. And, sure, the material sucked… Oh, Izzy was right. Agreeing with the older woman, she started to put the ugly dress back as the man ran to the back. “No, yeah, it's pretty terrible, isn’t it?” She chuckles, finding a bit of hilarity in the situation. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to– I don’t… shop. My parents always did it for me and my siblings…” Then they got interrupted by the merchant. She snapped her head over to him as he presented the outfit, and Azalea just… could not stop staring at his eyes.
The outfit was nicer than anything else she had to wear, truly. Especially with where she was now, Izzy was right, she did need to fit in and nothing she had wouldn’t just make her stick out. But she knew this must be out of character for a Zeinevan merchant, especially considering Izzy’s response. The comforting hand on the shoulder, and Azalea didn’t even need to look up at her to feel the expression. Yet, she did, just to confirm. Azalea felt slightly more comfortable knowing that Izzy knew something was up.
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Feb 19, 2023 12:13:00 GMT -5
Zarius watches the exchange out of the corner of his eye. It was amusing to see the tall woman's reaction to the dress the younger girl had initially picked out. It was like she had spotted some sort of giant disgusting insect crawling out of the ground and dying at her feet.
By comparison, the young girl was more nervous and meek. She seemed out of her element while the tall woman was completely comfortable. It made sense. Even the boldest pick pocketer would probably think twice of messing with the seven foot tall horned woman.
The merchant, still with that glazed over look in their eye, speaks in a friendly tone to the pair. “I can give you a deal. Fifteen Solars.”
It wasn’t an unreasonable amount. While the tiefling could have the merchant give them an even better deal, it would be way too obvious that something was wrong if the merchant made things too easy.[1]
Taking a closer look at the two as they haggle with the merchant, the tiefling notices that they seem to have caught on to something being off.
Interesting.
Doesn't seem like they have figured out exactly what is going on though and they haven't looked his way. Just as well. Movement through the crowd behind them catches his attention as a human man with a satchel passes through flanked by two soldiers of the Sultan's Corps. About time.
Zarius pushes off from the wall and walks past the pair as he starts to tail after the man and his armed escort.
[1] Profane Command (2/2 post duration)
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Feb 20, 2023 14:11:21 GMT -5
"Fifteen, eh?" Izzy's eyes narrow just a bit, but the smile doesn't fade. That was... a pretty decent price. She could get better, but the glazed look in the man's eyes smacks of something else. Ever the opportunist, Izzy steps back to pull out her coin-purse. "My, my, I can't argue with a deal like that. Here you are, sir, many thanks for your astute fashion recommendation on this day," She gives him a sweeping bow, takes the clothes as they are folded into a bag and pops him a salute as she steers Azalea away from the stall, ideally before the man can snap out of whatever stupor he'd been placed under.
She catches the passing, dark skinned tiefling as he slips into the crowd when they turn around, but there is no reason to think that they were behind anything, not at the moment. She notes him the way she notes everybody walking away from them, or lingering too long with their eyes. Those things weren't unusual; she was tall and strange. There were other clues she had to wait to pick up on.
Her eyes drop to Azalea with a wink and a smile. "Well, that was weird. What did you notice about that, Sparks?" Izzy glances down at their selected items. "And don't worry about what you picked before; it would've been, ah. Cute, if it was in a different colour. Yeah. We can see about getting something tailor made at some point," Izzy prattles on, scanning the crowd. Now, who had done that...
The armed escort passing through the market also catches Izzy's eye. Her natural greed turns into a sharp smile-- no, couldn't bring the kid along with heat like that cluttering the space. The man's satchel, however enticing it is, must be superceded by Izzy's better judgment, for once.
Unfortunately, if there is anything Izzy loves more than coin, it's a good conspiracy. And as she watches the escort go by, she catches another glimpse of the ebony tiefling, tailing behind at a safe distance. Now to see the same person twice wasn't always an indicator that something was afoot, but something did ring a little bell in the back of her head. Her smile widens, and she looks back at Azalea. "City's feelin' lively today, Sparks. What say we take a bit of a walk?" Izzy beckons her along, starting at a saunter paralell to the the walking escort and the tiefling. Not directly behind them, but beside, a few metres into the crowd itself.
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Post by Azalea Euanthe on Feb 26, 2023 2:14:35 GMT -5
“I can give you a deal. Fifteen Solars.” That was a really good deal, admittedly, which Izzy seemed to agree with. The two went about, taking the deal and moving on. Azalea did keep a good note on the merchant, who seemed to have a bit of an existential crisis once the two had gone on their way. It was a bit hilarious, actually, as she watched from her peripheral vision the man ask himself what the hell he was thinking. She giggled a little as she was pulled away, looking up at Izzy as she was.
“What did I notice? Something wasn’t quite right there. It was like he was being controlled…. But I’m not quite sure what by….? I am also not quite sure why. But it was like… Magic. Is there magic like that?” She looked up at Izzy, eyes widened. She did, after all, know nothing about the world. She could see the wheels turning in the older lizard’s mind as she examined the crowd. Unfortunately, Izzy definitely had something over her with that; Azalea was fairly short compared to her. But while Izzy looked over, Azalea looked under, and so she followed her lead and started looking out into the crowd for anyone she deemed interesting. Like a little mimic.
Izzy was faster, of course, so when she had beckoned Azalea along, Azalea followed like a good study, finally catching sight of what she did; The tiefling. Short, for a tiefling, but notable nonetheless. “Oh, is he the person who did the thing? Do you know him?” She asked Izzy with a conspiring grin.
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Feb 26, 2023 22:29:29 GMT -5
Glancing back over his shoulder, he can still make out the tall white tiefling woman with the curly red hair towering over the heads adorned with head wraps and shawls. She was looking his way. Had she figured him out? Only one way to find out.
Zarius moves silently through the crowd, weaving between the various civilians crowded in between the shop stalls as they haggle and socialize with one another or try to make any headway to some other destination. He's used to this kind of thing and he's strong enough to firmly push someone aside if they threaten to bump into him.
The armed escort are also able to make their way through the crowd fairly unimpeded. People in the crowd spot the Sultan's Corps armed guards and quickly step aside or squish together to let them pass.
As Zarius passes past a few women in elaborate dresses of various colors and sheer veils, he suddenly disappears into thin air.[1] If those tailing him were any good, they'd be able to follow him even without being able to see him.
He gains on the armed guards quickly and silently, falling in step behind them without them being any the wiser.[2] Now he just needed them to move from the open market into a more controlled and less public space. He considers his options. A distraction may work, though the guards would be unlikely to leave the man with the satchel behind. The Sultan's Corps were well known for their discipline.
Another option comes to mind, though it would be far less subtle. Zarius slips his hand back into a pouch at his belt and pulls out a tiny vial filled with black soot.[3] These would suffice for the time being. He uncorks the bottle and taps the shoulder of the nearest guard to him. As the man turns, he reaches for the hilt of the scimitar secured to his waist. The tiefling however, throws the contents of the bottle right in the man's face. A slew of little round soot balls with tiny limbs swarm about the man, getting in under his clothing and armor like little spiders.
The other guard draws his sword and turns around, keeping a keen eye out for trouble, though he does not see whoever unleashed the little cloud of pests on his fellow guard. The man with the satchel turns around in surprise and clutches his satchel tightly as the one guard flails in an attempt to shoo off the ash creatures. Each hit the creatures take reduces them to a harmless puff of smoke which refills the bottle which Zarius tucks back into his pouch.
Circling around the panicked group, Zarius manages to get next to the man with the satchel. A whisper of devils tongue and another wisp of smoke leaves his lips resulting in the man's eyes glazing over and his grip loosening on his bag just enough for the tiefling to slip the contents out of the bag while the guards and the crowd are focused on dispatching the Sootlings.[4]
With a number of envelopes in hand, the tiefling stashes the documents away under his guise of invisibility as he backs away from the commotion. He shoulders past an onlooker who is very confused by something unseen pushing past him.
[1] Invisibility [2] Silent Step [3] Bottle of Sootlings (Snowlings) [4] Profane Command
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Feb 27, 2023 14:59:20 GMT -5
"Controlled, you think?" Izzy murmurs thoughtfully, nodding along. She shifts her gaze down to her little protege and grins. "There sure is, Sparks. Magic of all kinds. As for why, well, that's an excellent question, now isn't it?" She was curious too. There were guesses that could be made, sure, but why not actually get some assurances?
"No way of knowing for sure," she replies to Azalea, keeping her voice low and light as she walks parallel to their tailing group. "Lesson number thirty-six," Izzy was just making up numbers at this point, "If you see someone more than once in a high traffic area, it's often not a coincidence." Sometimes it was, sure, but more often than not, it was because you were being watched or because someone was watching for someone else.
Hence why Izzy was having herself and Azalea walk adjacent rather than directly behind. The more out of line-of-sight they were, the better the chance they had of maintaining a trajectory without having to deviate.
Then, suddenly, as they pass the group of lovely veiled women, the ebon skinned teifling is gone. Whoever this person was, goodness, but they were clever. Getting the sense that something was about to be put into action, Izzy's grin widens, lowering her head again to Azalea. "Lesson number seventy-two; never let 'em know your next move." She grins, and steers, Azalea a little more away from the group, while still keeping a visual for the both of them. Best not to be caught in the crossfire. "Learn to recognize misdirection and stay on target."
As if her words had been prophecy, one of the guards turns, startled by something that was not there, and started yelling. Little black specks spring an ambush on the unsuspecting man, yelling about them crawling under his armor. The other guards move to help, looking out for what they cannot see. Giggling impishly at the sight-- never seen anything like that in all her days-- Izzy's eyes stay locked on the one with the satchel, a smile curving her lips. She lowers her head to Azalea's again and whispers "Look."
The man's eyes go glassy. His hands slacken on the bag. Something unseen ruffles the fabric, envelopes are extruded and vanish into thin air. Information, precious lifesblood of her work. Izzy waits with her hand on Azalea's shoulder, watching the crowd carefully. This person she had seen barging his way through the crowd before he had vanished-- if he was trying to get away quickly, or if his spell had a time limit--
Someone watching in the crowd is rocked back, pushed aside. Izzy moves, giving Azalea a little tap to indicate where as she starts in that direction, her pacing faster now as she resolves not to look over her shoulder. The guards are doubtless about to start hollering once the messenger discovers he was without his parcel, and the last thing they needed was to be caught in the crossfire. She moves diagonally to intercept, or wind up alongside, their unseen benefactor-- or at least she hopes so.
Taking a long drag from her cigar, Izzy exhales the smoke, aiming the jet low and steady. Part of the smoke moves in just such a way as though someone had walked through it even though they were not there.
"Well, I think that about wraps up our shopping for the day," Izzy says to Azalea, ensuring her voice could be heard by those close by enough. No reason to out the good man, not when he had done such fine work and the guards were barking orders a ways off. "It's getting a little hot. You know, I think there's a small fountain down this side alley over here. Nice and quiet; next to the stationary store~." Her tail swishes and she moves herself and Azalea casually in that direction, her invitation made. If it was so desired.
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Post by Azalea Euanthe on Feb 28, 2023 23:16:52 GMT -5
Why, indeed. Azalea seemed intrigued by the idea of magic being able to control people. But everything was moving so fast that Azalea didn’t have time to muse about the possibilities. Izzy gave her a semi-answer to her question, and Lea nods in response to the lesson, which at this point, she was pretty sure Izzy was making numbers up. At this point, it just seemed like coincidences rarely existed. The two weaved through the crowd, Izzy’s tallness and knowledge of the area gave her a bit of an edge, but Lea had edge of her own when it came to seeing certain unseen things. She had seen the bag slacken and shuffle only a moment before Izzy did. “Shouldn’t we be asking why…” She looks up at Izzy as she started towards the opposite direction.
As the two escaped getting involved, Lea frowns - almost pouts - a little. “I think I’m missing something. Who were those couriers? Why would someone be after some information they were carrying? Those envelopes probably had directions or orders from a superior. They were soldiers, weren’t they? Who’d be after orders from the Sultan’s corp?” Lea pulled at Izzy’s pant legs. “I love the stationary store as much as the next person but now I’m gonna be stuck on this all day.”
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Mar 3, 2023 17:42:48 GMT -5
Zarius glances to his left as a stream of smoke brushes past his invisible form. The white tiefling and her short companion had casually strolled their way over to him through the crowd. He narrows his eyes at the roguish woman. She seemed like the type to start shit if it compelled her to do so, yet she was being fairly discreet for some reason.
He listens to her words closely. Ah. So, she was on to him. Strange that she wasn't calling the guards, but perhaps she wasn't on the greatest terms with them either. Fine then, if she wanted to cast a lure, he'd humor her and bite.
As the two head off to the quieter area away from the markets, the tiefling follows silently, listening to the younger girl nags the taller woman with a million and one questions. He chuckles a bit. They must be close.
Once they have made clear of the markets and into the little courtyard with a the fountain, he drops his invisibility before he steps over to the fountain and takes a seat on the edge of it. He isn't sure what the deal is with these two, but he had plenty of ways of escaping them should they try anything. He was far from defenseless even if outnumbered, and if these two knew anything of who is who around Zeinav, they would quickly realize that.
It was no secret who he was, especially around these parts. Still, there were those who were careful not to speak his name aloud out of wariness. It was getting harder and harder for him to keep his reputation separate from the notoriety of Darkveil City’s less than savory underbelly society these days. Not that he minds much. It had its benefits.
Folding one leg over the other, he leans forward and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. His smile is friendly as he addresses the pair. “Can I help you?”
He keeps a close eye on the tall tiefling's movements as well as the kid’s. Just because someone appeared fairly young didn’t mean they couldn’t stir up a lot of trouble very quickly.
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Mar 4, 2023 19:20:59 GMT -5
"Sparks, those are some excellent questions," Izzy beams down at the smaller girl proudly as she saunters down the alley. There was no way of knowing if this ebon skinned saboteur would take the offered invitation, subtle as it was, but in either case, it couldn't hurt for a little respite. "Alll will be revealed in due time, my young apprentice~." The sagacity of her voice is entirely feigned, though she still nods as if this were a deep truth she was revealing.
Out of the general vicinity of the market now, and in much quieter surroundings, Izzy twirls the bag of clothes around her finger, the momentum of the spin keeping the fine clothes within the thin mesh bag. "Lesson number sixty nine-- nice," she snickers at herself as she glances back over her shoulder. She doesn't see him, yet. Hope isn't lost yet. She takes a drag from her cigar as her eyes swivel forward and... oh. There he is, sitting on the fountain, casual as you please. There's a familiar thrill in the pit of her stomach, the elated eureka moment of being right. Such a sweet feeling. Izzy looks down at Azalea with a wide smile. "When you have questions, the best answers come from the source."
"Good afternoon to you as well!" Izzy greets him cheerfully. She offers a low bow, though this is more of a pause, a length of time to be able to look the man over. His posture was relaxed, friendly, but watchful. A trained wariness that came from experience. She did not know who he was by sight, but reputation, surely, preceeded him. An ebon skinned tiefling, fitted with gold horns and a sort of muted finery about his person, carrying the easy confidence of nobility. There was really only one who fit that mold quite so nicely.
"A pleasure to see you without a guise~. I'm an admirer of your handiwork." Behind them, as if to punctuate that, the sound of steel boots on stone trudge past, and then out of earshot. Wherever the guard was off to, they were leaving the area. Izzy pays them no mind.
Straightening, she continues. "I'm Issala Arodre, professional private investigator. This delightful little cherub is my associate, Azalea." She lifts her hands in a peaceable spread, the sharp toothed grin filtering her words as they step closer. "We're not here on a job or anything; simple professional curiosity, I assure you. I'm instructing Sparks here on how the city works, you see, and we found ourselves deeply interested in your... motivations shall we say." she smiles, and looks to Azalea to ask her questions, and see if the man would humour her. "Remember now, we're in public. Mr. Zarius here-- I believe that's what you go by, yes?" She looks to him to confirm, but does not expect a response, and back to Azalea, "Has something you would like to know, but if you're overheard, you don't want to be understood by anyone not part of the conversation. Savvy?" She winks and gives her a little push forward, watching with bright, eager eyes.
Not only was this good for Azalea to start learning, but Izzy is also deeply interested. How rare was it to be face to face with someone like this, and get to observe them as they go about whatever business folk like him carried out. Perhaps there was a way to garner audience with this man-- he was probably a lot more fun than the rumours made him out to be.
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Adventurer
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Post by Azalea Euanthe on Mar 8, 2023 20:08:48 GMT -5
All in due time. Azalea seemed a bit miffed at that answer - Izzy says it far too often. Sometimes when she already has something up her sleeve, other times when she simply does not have an answer. Though the latter is rather rare. The slight annoyance was clear in Lea’s face. She wasn’t quite as good as Izzy was, hiding her facial expressions. She also had no idea what was so funny about 69. In fact, she was going to ask before the Tiefling appeared.
“What’s 69 me– Oh.” Azalea stopped in her tracks along with Izzy. She knew exactly who it was, and after she stared for a moment, listening to Izzy’s explanation, Lea gasped. “Wait. Zarius! The– That Zarius?” She had to hold in her response a little, and it would be difficult to tell if Lea was intimidated or excited. But she didn’t quite have time to digest that as she was soon pushed forward with the expectation of subtlety. “Wait, how am I supposed to– Ope.”
Azalea was face to face with someone she both respected and feared a little. “I-i um. H-hello.” Panic had set in, and Lea knew she sort of had to pull herself together. “I-i was just… Wondering….” How the hell was she supposed to do this. Her face reddened, and she shot Izzy another miffed glance before clearing her throat. “Well… Going off what she said… What exactly.. Were your motivations…?” Oh, Gods. She had no idea what she was doing, and she was convinced it showed.
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CCS Courier
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Post by Eameia (Zarius unavailable) on Mar 9, 2023 12:22:17 GMT -5
"I am not one for disguises," he replies simply, watching the guards tromp by. "Besides, I have no need for such deception."
That was more a strength of those he worked closely with. He didn't have magic that could pull off such feats as to conceal his very distinct features. The only concealment of his identity he could pull off was limited to the invisibility trick and a cloak. Though horns and cloaks did not often work well together. Regardless, his reputation made it harder to pretend to be someone else in the first place. He had long since embraced his public face and the trade-offs of such a choice.
He listens and watches intently as the tall woman introduces herself and her young companion.
Issala Arodre and Azalea. Private investigators. Interesting.
The white tiefling woman had an air of confidence about her. Her ego was likely as tall as she was just given her choice of words, tone of speaking, and posture. It was clear she had no doubt in her mind that he wouldn't try anything villainous while out in public. A bold assumption.
The younger girl, Azalea, seemed more timid and nervous from being put on the spot by her taller companion. He couldn't help but be amused by her stammering. Was the white tiefling really using him as a training opportunity for her young ward? Very well then, he would humor them for now.
"My motivations for what, exactly? You will have to be more specific as I am a very busy man."
He knew what they were referring to, but he wasn't about to give them an answer without working for it. As private investigators, they should know that accusations without any proof were only as powerful as the person making the accusation. Given that he was of a high social standing, accusing him of something, even if he was guilty, was taking a huge risk, especially when he was also very good at lying.
"As 'professional private investigators' I am certain you are aware that unless you have the authority of the guard behind you or some sort of warrant, I do not have to answer any of your questions. That said, I could be convinced to trade information for information should you have anything of value to me."
Zarius may have gotten his start in the criminal underground through nepotism, but it would be foolish for anyone to forget that he made his mark by being an information broker. He wasn't an assassin or a smuggler or a thug, though he did dabble in those areas as needed. He was first and foremost a spy, an interrogator, and a manipulator. Despite him being a public face, that fact has never changed.
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