agentlelog | [open] as he climbs he dares to deliver the master stroke

Entry tags:

[open] as he climbs he dares to deliver the master stroke

Who: Mollymauk Tealeaf and whoever wants to join his shenanigans
When: Throughout March
Where: Various places
What: Influence threads!
Warnings: Self-harm if any threads get combative. I will warn accordingly.

a. baby light my fire

[So he's the wizard and the cleric now.

Molly doesn't enjoy doing things for free, even if he's one of the most generous persons around. There's a difference between throwing gold and silver at someone and then skipping off, and being asked (and a little bit expected to help with things for free, but he did agree to take up this bloody Jewel, and he supposes he should make good on an unspecified promise.

The heating spells are easy enough, as are the witchlights, which Molly has been inclined to play with to entertain the frightened and cold children. What he didn't expect was that due to a tiefling's natural body temperature, he is also a space heater in himself.

So there you are, minding your own business, checking on all these homes without power to see if anyone needs anything, and you find (1) tiefling in the dim light of the main room of a home with a pile of children using him as a pillow and the most unhappy look on his face. He mouths "help" very plaintively.]

b. shock it to me

[Molly has obtained more jobs in Draega than he has made up lies about his backstory and that's saying something. Admittedly, he took this one out of curiosity (Jon is that you??) and the hope for a possible fight, because between all of these odd jobs and stopping fires, he needs to do something with his restless hunter energy.

He's not a very smart person on a good day so giving someone who only seems to grasp Craft by accident a complicated task is a bad idea, but he is one hundred percent sure he has it down. Or at least assumes the person he's been partnered with does.]

Was it just me or did it seem like that Councilman could have explained this better? [He rubs his fingers together and then, very pointedly, presses his finger to the back of his partner's neck.

bzzt goes the tiny shock, because he just had to.]

c. dark knights

[Now this is about... half Molly's speed. Still a little more than he really wanted to be involved with, but the Council doing nothing rubs him raw and he's willing to help to be contrary at this point. If Fayura wasn't in a complicated position, she'd probably be fine with it.

Molly's set himself up on a corner, keeping an eye on people as they pass, his cards laid out in front of him as he tries to catch the eye of any passers-by, inviting them to have their fortunes told. Of course, it's all a distraction. The second he notices anything suspicious, he'll be on the prowl again, but for now hey evening Tarot readings.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Why not? [Nip a building issue in the bud is always good.] I've no fondness for bein' woken by someone armed in the middle o' the night again just 'cause someone decided to get brave.

[Or stupid with vengeance. Or both, really. One never knows what sort of shite youths tend to come up with or believe. They're infinitely more malleable as adults, which is why many of them are being used so much in nasty things.

Of course, Rhus is aware he's making such a huge leap in logic, but the way things are going currently... if they're not stopped, this could mean all-out war. Draega seems to be so slowly heading in that direction already, but the relentless killing of innocents would tip it over too fast, too soon, he's sure.]

That's fair. [Having been woken up with a gun in his face right after his last memory was being stabbed in the heart and killed made him less inclined to deal with bullshit than he already was. Molly unfolds his legs out from under him and stands, stretching casually.]

Let's go hunting before someone else decides to murder some poor landen kid for no reason, and starts something I don't want to be associated with.

Now you an' I, we're on the same page now. [Perhaps with entirely different languages speaking, if he takes Mollymauk at face value and his words as his true reasoning.

Ah, well. It's reason enough for him.

He stands, cricking his neck but refusing to stretch due to the greatsword on his back that would make that motion rather awkward.]

Alleyways first?

[Everything he says is precisely what he means. No bullshit here. Coughs.

Molly adjusts his belt from where he'd had to adjust the position of his two scimitars when he sat down.] I love a good alleyway. Nothing good ever happens there.

[Which is precisely what they need. With a spring in his step despite the fact that his legs are a little numb from sitting on them for so long, he starts off, selecting what looks like the darkest one to check first.]

[Rhus shrugs.]

Mrrrmn, I dunno-- I can think a few good things to happen in alleyways. 'Cept none are for innocent ears. [And only one of them is the most obvious, most expected answer out of an adult's mouth... Though making people think exactly that is what he was going for, because he's just like that.

But he really is not joking. The bent to his furry tail is not that of someone stringing another around for fun, but the amusement of going through old, fun memories.]

[Molly notes the telltale... tail and snorts a bit.] That's fair. I retract my statement.

[And keeping that in his back pocket, just in case. For right now, there's work to be done. His darkvision pierces most of the alley as it extends just beyond thirty feet into the next block and comes up short beyond a little bit of movement that's probably a cat of some sort.] This one's clear, unless you think Snowball the Shop Cat is a murderer.

[Rhus sniffs the air just to confirm-- and indeed, it is a cat. Slightly dusty from the streets and whatever else it stays in, so is definitely not a housepet but an animal that may just come and go as it pleases.]

If it were a shop cat, then it has a job-- keepin' vermin numbers low. [Molly can find whatever meaning he wants out of that.

But he pauses once more, sniffing the air. There's something else in the air... and he steps out into the street proper to seek it out.]

I smell some Blood wand'rin' about. [Spoken softly, just for Molly's ears.]

Edited 2019-03-28 12:05 (UTC)

[Molly sniffs the air, like he, too, can smell Blood wandering about, but he can't. Experimentally, he lifts the moonbow necklace his jewel is set into to his nose and sniffs it in kind.

Yeah, okay. This is a cat thing isn't it? Caleb's always saying that Frumpkin can smell really well even if he doesn't have darkvision for some stupid reason. Despite his confusion and comical experimentation, he does whisper back, casually:]

Out of curiosity, what exactly do Blood smell like?

[What? Unless they're Blood smelling like blood, it might just be folks out for a walk. Probably not, in this environment, but still not worth running directly towards fullspeed ahead. They need a plan.

And Molly apparently needs clarification on minor details.]

Different from landens. [Obviously. But by now Rhus is just fucking with Molly.]

But in all seriousness, describin' in words that I sense wont be simple.

Or quick, [is added when he looks away and notes some young Blood male walking on the other side of the street with a furtive look about him.]

Fair enough. [Molly lets the moonbow pendant thump against his chest as he eyes the Blood male off on his walk. For a moment, he meets the young man's eyes and grins, and the man looks away quickly, speeding up.

That's telling.]

Well, he's either up to something or freaked out by me- tends to go either way. Worth following for, though.

Mayhap =the look o' the guilty, [said loftily as he begins to move in the direction the boy is as well.

He couldn't see the expression on the Blood male's face, his terrible sight in the dark is unable to pick out those specific details beyond a certain distance, so he'll take Molly's word for it. And of course, the way the man moves... Definitely telling.]

Oh-- definitely guilty. [Because the Blood male has ducked around a corner, clearly a poor attempt at shaking two men off of his trail.] Unfortunately for him that's never worked.

It's adorable when people think it does. [Molly takes off at a sprint, coat flapping behind him. He's not Beau, so his skill at parkour isn't impressive, but he does take the turn at an angle so that he hits the side of the wall and flips, catching the Blood off-guard as he lands right beside him in the alley he'd tried to cut through for sanctuary, and sending him running back to Rhus.

The Blood falters and realizes he's now thoroughly trapped, which seems to mean it's time for him to play innocent. "What the hell are you two doing ganging up on a fella?"]

[Given his openly-displayed musculature and the greatsword on his back, Rhus decides to play the dumb muscle-- a ruse that would be helped along with his rough accent.]

I dunno-- maybe the dumb look on your face is just callin' for a beatin'. [This is emphasized by the cracking of his knuckles.]

[The Blood looks offended by this and Molly can see from his earring that he's boasting a paler Jewel of some sort. The sight of darker Jeweled blood cornering him is probably doing more for intimidating him than their words, but he seems to be a strong-willed one.

"Is that you lot do, then? Beat up on weaker Blood than you?" Molly's response is a toothy, sharp-fanged grin.] Where were you going?

[He shoots a glare at Molly. "Nowhere you need to know. Piss off."]

[Seems like a good time to pose a much bigger threat than he already appears to be.

A soft growl bubbles up from inside Rhus' throat, not loud enough to be a proper rumble, but still enough to be audible. Not unlike the soft growl a child afraid of the dark would stay awake for and attempt to hear, and Rhus promises many, many dire things if he's tested in that one sound.]

You said that once, we haven't pissed off just yet, mate. [Then he leans forward, releasing into the air a slight metallic tinge that smells far too much like blood, real lifeblood, followed by wisps of dark indigo magic.] Tell the man what he were wantin' to know, eh?

[Maybe the Blood has heard stories from his mother or father about things that lurk in shadows and growl with the smell of children's blood on their breath, but the effect startles him and he tries to back away before Molly catches him firmly by the collar. He seems to be comforted by the blood smell in an eerie sort of way. Blood is power and power is in the blood, dangerous and deadly, but effective.

The young man struggles, trying to twist out of Molly's grip. He'd try to Charm him, but Rhus seems to be doing fine all his own. "I was just out for a fucking walk! That's not a crime!"] Out for a walk this late when landens are being killed. Right. So that must be a big coincidence then.

["Must be," the man responds, but he's paled slightly.]

[Simply to unsettle the Blood male more, Rhus leans in close and takes a deep sniff. And if his nose is too close the the man's exposed neck... Well.]

Out this late an' ain' even drunk or walkin' home after visitin' a special friend. S'what I call a crime, definitely.

Where you goin'?

[Molly holds him firm as he tries, once again, to wriggle free.] I'm gonna give you a hint. If the answer is not "home," then it's the wrong fucking answer.

[The Blood seems to see this as his way out- fool that he is- and says "Home, then."

Molly bares his teeth in a savage grin. Game. Set. Match.] Oh, excellent. I was hoping I'd get to walk someone home tonight.

[Rhus reaches out and lays his hand heavily on the Blood male's shoulder. The man's knees almost completely buckle before he manages to keep himself from dropping. And lucky for him too, when Rhus would have simply kicked him in the ribs to make him stand up-- or risk being kicked again.]

Where are you livin' then, mate? We'll escort you back an' make sure nothin' untoward happens. [But to whom? Rhus leaves out that part on purpose, just to make the Blood male sweat.

Perhaps metaphorically, but he does gain a glance from the man, before he begins to walk.

Or rather, shuffle, not unlike a prisoner being escorted somewhere.]

[Proving which one is the good cop and which one is the bad cop, Molly drapes his own arm around the man's shoulder and leans heavily on him so that he's walking with a clear threat on one side and an uncertain one on the other. It's a very awkward parade they make, essentially sandwiching the man between them.]

Did we mention people were getting murdered out here? We're just looking out for your best interests.

[And like a rat going for bait, the Blood snaps, "That's just landens getting murdered, not Blood."] Oh, did you hear that, Rhus? That information certainly came to him quickly, didn't it?

Real specific too.

[Rhus leans in closer. He may be short, slightly shorter than the average man in this world, but he still knows how to be intimidating, especially when he has a certain man name Fray to draw inspiration and far more than that from.]

How're you so sure it's just landens, then?

[The Blood has made a huge mistake. Underneath Molly's arm, he's coiled tense and ready to bolt, but Rhus keeps scaring him into being as still as one can be while walking a gallows march forwards.

"'Cause I hear people talking."] Well, you know... That's fair, but I feel like when murders happen, people don't automatically assume a certain type of person is gonna be getting murdered, 'cause people who kill indiscriminately are gonna just take what they can get. And the only way a person would know for certain what a killer's aim is... well, if they knew how the murderer thinks.

Or if they're plannin' on the exact same thing.

'Cause it's suspect, innit? [Rhus' grip tightens, causing the Blood male to wince.] Too specific, not even the regular people know all details an' tend to prefer not to talk 'bout it so easily an' openly.

They care 'bout their fellow men enough not to kill, y'see. Or their reputation enough not to be caught.

[If Rhus' speech is smoothing out to something less like someone with a street upbringing... Well. That's all part of the act too.]

[Molly eyes Rhus over the top of the kid's head, while the kid tries to make himself physically smaller in order to just slip through their grasp. Molly feels the start of a shield start to emerge and he tamps down on that fast.] Did you just try to shield yourself?

[The boy's face has turned scarlet in frustration and rage, but he says something.] I think you did. It's a shame we're not landens or that might have actually worked. Is that what you want? An unfair fight?

[There's another tense moment and then the dam bursts and the boy spits, "They're putting the asshole who killed the Councilwoman up like a Warrior Prince. How many other landens d'you think are gonna get similar ideas once they realize they can get away with it?"

Oho. [Now they're getting somewhere. And frankly, it's interesting to hear what the commonfolk think about the entire situation. Rhus cant exactly just sit amongst them and listen to what they have to say without arousing suspicion, not when he's the only Miqo'te in Draega.]

You think you know better'n the Queen, eh? The Queen, her First Circle, her Court, the Council, everyone else?

Wan' us to quote you on that? Spread the word an' say you were the one who started it? [And get the Blood male a new one ripped because he dared to question her like that?

Because that ripping would get bloody-- he'd bet just the Consort would be glad to do it himself, if the Master oF the Guard didn't beat him to it.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject