Shopping Spree

Started by Lomari, January 03, 2019, 02:49:05 pm


Artemis, Grace, Amorru, Charity and King enter from:

Repossession Mambo: NEWHALL
Charity ~ Melody ~ Tabitha

Darling ~ Iscariot


January 03, 2019, 02:52:29 pm #1 Last Edit: January 03, 2019, 02:52:50 pm by Charity
"I'm impressed you trust Amorru with such a delicate task, Captain. Does he have your measurements?" Artemis asked and Charity couldn't help but turn to smile at the other woman. She was the type of person who slipped silently into rooms but once she was there, sparkled brightly and demanded the attention of those present. The aristocrat could appreciate that and Amy seemed might fond of her so Charity felt some kinship with the woman as well. Something about her gelled nicely with the two fancy pants crew members.

"I trust Charity here to see me properly dressed to the teeth. That should suffice wouldn't ya say, Acquisitions Officer? Now as to how many outfits we require...." Jax assured the mechanic while simultaneously offering the debutante a job.

Her elegant hands slipped carefully free from Grace's arm and she rested one bejeweled hand over her shimmering lace covered chest, cherry lips forming a gentle 'O' of surprise. Having been taken off guard for the smallest of moments, her expression once more melted into a sweet and affectionate glow that she leveled warmly upon the Captain of their ship in thanks. "Why yes, I do believe I have a nearly precise idea of your measurements now, Captain," she answered, a gentle pink glow blooming across her ivory cheeks.

"Mind if I tag along?" Art questioned, much to Charity's pleaseant surprise.

"Can't speak for the Duchess, but I think it's a right marvelous suggestion," Amorru answered, capturing Charity's feelings on the matter rather perfectly. Gliding across the floor, skirts rustling around her legs as she moved, she slipped her arms around one of Artemis' and grinned mischievously up at the woman, a twinkle in her chocolate gaze. "I agree, I think we'd love nothing more than for you to come with us," she assured the other woman, somehow lumping Amorru and herself together into a 'We'. 

"So Charity, four dresses and four suits, assuming Mister Finnegan will be joining us and that Emit is up for it," the Captain further explained and Charity smiled at him and nodded her chin gently in response. Four dresses and four suits. Regardless of the lawman's condition she'd be getting just that amount. The more people on the ship she could fancy up the better. The place needed an appearance overhaul and she and Amy were just the people to do it. No one better, she thought.

"Aye, you sort out that business with the Missus mate? Figure it went well enough; your face doesn't look any more smashed up than usual, eh?" Reyes asked and Charity couldn't help but shoot him a disapproving look. Was he looking to get his nose messed up again? Surely this was the sort of situation one dropped and pretended never happened, the way the civilized and affluent individuals in the 'Verse handled stressful and uncultured situations. But the pilot seemed to enjoy poking bears and putting his marvelous visage at risk. She made a soft 'tsk' sound of warning to the man.

"As for the 'Missus'....she's taking a leave of absence and let's leave it at that," Jax answered, showing a level of restraint that Charity had to internally commend him for. He seemed far more level headed than his partner.

"Anything I can do t' be of service to ye and ye're endeavors good Captain?" the mole asked. The aristocrat eyed him suspiciously before looking at Artemis and then Amorru, including them in her bubble of doubt and raising her brows at them both in what was the beginning of a marvelous eye-conversation.

"You'll escort the ladies here and Emit can tag along with Jo, Sean and myself....we have a passenger to pick up," the Captain said to Amorru, half answering the spy in his further delegating of tasks. Charity was more than happy that the stranger wouldn't be going with them. She wasn't too keen on him being anywhere near her as she worried something of hers might go missing if he got too close. He seemed the pick-pocket sort of man.

"Sniffer's fine Doc, thanks for askin'," the pilot finally said to Grace, who frowned at him, glanced down at his nose to make sure it was still in its proper place, then turned to continue listening to the captain. It took everything in her power not to stare at him or say anything in return and her hands almost vibrated with the effort, but she didn't want him to see how much he rattled her just by being there.

"What is that? Orchids? Did you ever finish my jacket?" Amorru asked, pulling her attention away from Sean and back toward his barely covered bruised face. She winced for him and made a mental note to give him some of her makeup, if he didn't have some himself. "You're very perceptive, Amy," she returned, grinning brightly at the use of his new nickname. Well, new to her. "I've mostly finished your jacket, although I will warn you..." she began, turning and walking toward and down the opened cargo bay ramp, effectively pulling Artemis along by her arm while Grace followed in their wake, trying not to get too close to the pompadoured peacock. "...It seems to have changed shape," she concluded, keeping her face turned away from him to hide her amused grin, although she did look at Artemis to include her in her mirth.

She made her way off the metallic ramp and looked around, grinning at herself, the ornate hairpin holding her front most layer of dark tresses back glimmering with every movement she made. From her expression, she seemed a little embarrassed, "I don't know which way to go," she confessed, laughing musically, her unopened parasol dangling in the crook of her elbow.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Amorru Reyes

Amorru's swept up hair swayed ever so slightly as he tilted his head to the side. Perhaps letting the situation lie for now served everyone best. After all, the Cap'n showed an aptitude for making good decisions by dismissing Abigail in the pilot's favor. Charity's deep, smokey eyes caught his own as Amorru looked away from Sean with an audible "Tsk." Wondering what she stared at, Reyes eventually believed he caught her meaning and raised an eyebrow in reply. His eyes shot over to Artemis before his brows popped momentarily, disappearing for a moment behind the folded bandanna. Sliding back over to Charity for a moment, breaking only to glance back at Sean before regarding the duchess with a nod, Amorru's eyes finally turned to slits as they fell on Grace as she lingered just outside of their little circle.

Relieved that Xavier assigned Sean to another task, Amorru let all other matters slide and re-centered his attention on Charity. Colder than he originally read her demeanor, Amorru still found her quite nice to look at and otherwise felt it for the best if she knew he shared her unspoken opinion of the man. Additionally, if Grace tagged along with Artemis, Charity, and himself, he figured he could use the Duchess's support in the inevitable dispute he imagined lurked just beyond the fitting room door.

Making their way toward the ramp, Grace following a few steps behind rolling her eyes so hard she looked as if they'd fallen out of her head for a moment, Charity answered Amorru's inquiry regarding his prized jacket after she politely complimented his yet bruised nose's ability to determine her fragrance. Amorru smiled in accomplishment and the swagger with which he carried himself visibly grew and nearly doubled. Still, so focused on looking cool made it easy to bump into Charity as she stopped in her tracks.

"Hmm..." Glancing about the city as it reminded him of home on Persephone, Amorru used the instincts honed during his days as a proper Duschane of the high nobility. Not quite knowing why, he felt himself drawn to the right and allowed his mending nose to drag him along toward the smell of fresh cinnamon raisin bagels. "This way... And what did you mean by 'changed shape'!?"
It's a mechanical bull at number one You'll take a ride from anyone
Everyone wants a ride, pulls away, Ooh, From you

Metric, "Black Sheep"

Akhsar King

King didn't have to wait very long. After a few minutes conversation the crew of the Wushu left the cargo bay and split up. The first group consisted of Miss Charity Vornbach (there was no mistaking her now), two other women, and a rather ostentatiously dressed man. They turned and headed towards Kings position. Not ideal. It would make tailing them more difficult, unless they were particularly oblivious to their surroundings. The second group looked to contain the Captain of the Wushu, Jason Xavier, and a few other crewmen. They turned and walked off in the opposite direction.

King didn't move from his spot, but shifted slightly to keep Charity in his peripheral vision as her group approached. He kept his eyes down and on his cortex pad, letting annoyance show on his face, and occasionally typing somewhat angrily. He would let them pass, and after there was a sufficient distance between them he would follow.


"This way... And what did you mean by 'changed shape'!?" the pilot directed and demanded. Charity grinned once more in Artemis' direction before casting a glance back toward the doctor following begrudgingly behind them. She hoped Amorru's worry would brighten the woman's day, if only a little. As they walked in the direction of where Amy was certain the shop they were looking for would be. A deep breath pressed her bosom against the confines of her corset, cinnamon goodness filling her lungs and prompting a warm and contented 'mmm' to slip past cherry lips.

In an effort to 'blend in', the debutante released Art's arm and lifted the closed parasol over her head, opening it with a fabric muffled pop. Grinning, entirely pleased with her disguise, she shot Amorru a satisfied wink, one corner of her lips turning upward mischievously. Although the parasol blocked out most of the sun and kept it off her ivory flesh, the occasional ray did glimmer prettily off the hairpin nestled in her dark tresses.

Without a moment's thought or a curious glance, Charity walked past where an annoyed stranger stood stabbing at his cortex pad with an aggravated finger. To her, he blended into the background and it would have taken quite a lot for her to notice him, even if he hadn't been trying to fade into the environment.

"Amy, why don't we get some of these for the crew?" she asked excitedly, hurrying away from them to approach the stall generating the delicious cinnamon aroma. Once she reached it and inhaled deeply, the aristocrat turned her head to smile charmingly back at the group, raising her brows in question and grinning, her eyes positively sparkling. "Grace, Artemis, you must try one of these! I don't know what they are but they smell divine!" she called out to the sullen sawbones.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Amorru Reyes

January 04, 2019, 04:37:13 pm #5 Last Edit: January 04, 2019, 04:57:27 pm by Amorru Reyes
The bootheels of the mass of morning consumers clicked along walk ways and thoroughfares paved in relatively clean cobblestone to the haphazard time of a full compliment of horses pulling carriages during one of Persephone's Old City parades. The hustle and bustle of the shoppers rushing from one stall to the next, all the while tradesmen and merchants alike advertised their offerings as the very finest in the 'Verse, rose above the murmuring din of personal conversations and the occasional thunder of engines roaring high overhead played like a symphony in Amorru's ears. The vivid colors and perfume scents of the flowers being peddled by competing vendors gave cause for the rake to recall his ancestral grounds' illustrious garden walks set against the backdrop of a meticulously maintained hedge maze during Persephone's mild, though at times unsettled, springs. Flanked by the Lady Charity, Amorru easily imagined himself back home as if he never managed to leave at all.

He hated it.

Still, the faint smell of toasted poppy seeds wafted above it all and - letting other organs do the thinking for a moment - he continued to follow his nose and stomach toward the familiar scent as saliva secreted from the insides of his cheeks and pooled around his uncharacteristically stilled tongue. Intoxicated with the idea of biting into a freshly toasted, expertly smeared, and delightfully calorific bagel, Amorru nearly jumped from his pressed, tailored trousers at the sound of Charity's parasol popping open beside him. Positioning his body toward her as if he intended to subject Wushu's wayward Dutchess to the embarrassingly little knowledge he possessed in regards to hand-to-hand combat.

Raising a curious eyebrow toward Charity and Art's hushed conversation before shooting a short, contemptuous glare toward the comparatively humble medical attendant trailing along in a position to maintain a healthy distance away from him, Amorru reared his head around with a huff as he attempted to brush away his awkwardness with a hand to his open shoulder. Bare arms shining in the easy morning sun where it peeked above the raised domes overlooking Heraklion's streets, Amorru shrugged and continued on his way. On chance, the polished pilot happened to behold some scruffy looking bum growing increasingly frustrated as he attempted to unlock a most certainly stolen cortex pad. Considering at once the possibility of falling prey to pick pockets in the pressing public, Reyes patted himself down and retrieved a stylish money clip in the shape of a diving falcon from his rear pocket.

The *SWISH SWISH SWOOSH* of layers of skirts moving in haste and practiced, lady-like clicks of Charity's footfalls brought Amorru's attention to a cart full of glazed and gooey cinnamon cakes. Assuming he failed to make his move before the Dutchess's finely tuned senses picked up the smell of money in the air, Amorru's expression soured at her request to procure enough of the confections for the crew. Cinnamon never set well with Amorru, reminding him overly much of the cough syrup his mother insisted his attendants pour down his throat as a child. However, as an adult he found just a dash of cinnamon added a satisfying hint of smoky sweetness to the butter on his steaks.

Still yet, Reyes somehow found himself with an armful of the aromatic sticky buns as he made his way inside a neighboring shop to find the fat, doughy rings he found himself pursuing since he stepped off Wushu's lowered cargo ramp. Emerald eyes twinkling and rapier tongue darting across his lips as he cut his way into the queue, Amorru inquired into the authenticity of the liquid gold pouring over the healthy layer of cream cheese smeared over a blueberry bagel. "Is that... Please! Tell me that's real honey! I just can't stand for the synthetic stuff!"

Satisfied with the baker's reply, Amorru looked around his companions with a smug look confirming his hard-fought victory before remembering his manners. "What, then? Suppose I should buy one for the rest of the crew as well?" A huffy snort escaped Amorru's nostrils before a chill ran up his spine. Turning his head slowly to scan the interior of the bakery, Reyes felt a wave of jì shì gǎn and just knew someone watched him a little too intently from the crowd.
It's a mechanical bull at number one You'll take a ride from anyone
Everyone wants a ride, pulls away, Ooh, From you

Metric, "Black Sheep"

Artemis Graham

As the crew split in two, Artemis allowed herself to be pulled along by Charity, not even attempting to conceal her smile. She was slightly surprised by how much she enjoyed feeling part of the team but not particularly concerned. Both Charity and Amorru were not without their dangers but she felt said danger would be interesting, if nothing else. Besides, she was pretty adept at two stepping her way out of a mess. She'd proved that already in their short trip.

When Charity released her in favour of the parasol Artemis allowed herself to take in the city around her and found her frown decreasing slightly. Despite the fact it was a familiar setting, it was also one she'd been hoping to avoid for a bit longer. Even the smell of cinnamon made her bristle. She'd never been a sweet tooth, a fact that had been terribly unfashionable on Osiris. It was considered highly unladylike to decline sweets when offered so the thought of sticky buns was closely tied to the memories of force feeding herself dessert in order to make her excuses and hide in her room. Still, she was meant to be making friends so it seemed she was back to old habits.

But although she was doing her best to be accommodating and polite she still couldn't help herself when she found Amorru smirking at her, bagel in hand. Sweets she could take or leave but bagels usually meant something much better. "If you'd be so kind," she shot back, "but only if they have one that incorporates cheese of some kind." She grinned evilly before adding, "please and thank you." She even did a bob of a curtsy for full effect.

While she'd been waiting for Amorru, Art had also been eyeing the aggressive cortex man they'd passed in the crowd. A lifetime of sneaking out, lying about her identity and (at times) outlawing had made her highly conscious of her surroundings and on when she was being watched. Art couldn't help but feel his eyes were shooting back to Charity a little too frequently and his button mashing was a little too forced. The thought sat with her for a second or two before she shook it off. She was being paranoid in her old age. Besides, it would have been suspicious if he was NOT looking at Charity. The woman certainly commanded a room. In fact she commanded an entire street. Best not to take her eyes of the prize...or the cheese as it were.

Akhsar King

No one took much note of King as the group passed him, though the man did pat himself down and take out a moneyclip. Apparently King had reminded him of a pickpocket. The man wouldn't have been wrong, King had lifted more than his fair share of moneyclips, wallets, cortex pads, etc. He was quite good at it too.

The group continued on a little ways before stopping at some street vendors for snacks. Not ideal. The longer they stayed near him the more likely it was that he would stick out in their minds when he finally did start tailing them. He also noticed the pretty blonde woman eying him for a moment, which was strike one. His neck itched in the way it usually did when something was about to go wrong. If the group stayed put much long he would have to make a decision. Either walk away and try to catch them on their way back to the ship, or go for a more direct approach.


Charity was pleased and having quite the time of her life. She was on an adventure, had made new interesting friends, and there were sweet pastries she could...someone...could purchase. Deep down there was some inner conflict, some small bit of fear crawling its way down her spine at how familiar this all was, but the woman pushed it deeper and deeper until even she could pretend realistically that she didn't feel it at all. Instead, she focused on how pleased the crew would be when Amy and Charity treated them to some delicious cinnamon bread and... Charity frowned down at the boring rings of dough.

"What, then? Suppose I should buy one for the rest of the crew as well?" Amorru asked charitably.

"Will they want some?" she asked him warily, tilting her chin away and eyeing the bagels with distrust.

"If you'd be so kind," Artemis answered.

She was surprised, then, to find that Artemis did in fact want a ring of plain looking dough. The debutante turned to look at the blonde and raised her brows, her lips pulling into a thoughtful pout. Well, if she wanted them then surely the other crew members would, and Amorru could use all the help he could get in winning them over. Especially after his breach in manners with the XO. Or, former XO. She shook her head, finding the whole situation distasteful. "I'll get them," she told him with a winning smile, pushing past Amourru, her skirts pressing into his legs as she moved by. It didn't take her long before she returned with a bag filled with boring and probably remarkably plain tasting rings of nothing.

"Now then!" she began brightly, looking around before holding the bag out for someone to take, smiling a little sheepishly about it all. "What were we doing again?" she asked, furrowing perfectly arched brows and trying to balance her opened parasol while also offering up the bag. She looked at Grace, and then Artemis, then down at herself. "Oh! Yes, gowns. Thank you for reminding me," she said to the other two plainly dressed women. Once more, her attention turned to Amorru, " said it was this way? Now where?" she asked, the brightness in her eyes making it clear that she was absolutely up to follow him to the next non-job-related distraction.

And still, being who she was, she took absolutely no notice of the man watching them. In fact, she was so used to eyes being upon her that in the back of her mind, she thought it strange when she wasn't being watched. Once she had been relieved of the bag, her free hand lifted to first make sure the glimmering hairpin was secure amidst her perfectly arranged chocolate waves, before running down the length of her locket, perhaps subconsciously checking that it was still there.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Amorru Reyes

Quote from: Artemis Graham on January 14, 2019, 06:35:15 am
"If you'd be so kind," she shot back, "but only if they have one that incorporates cheese of some kind." She grinned evilly before adding, "please and thank you." She even did a bob of a curtsy for full effect.

"I... Er... 'Course." Amorru smirked at the mechanic. "Figure sooner or later you'll be owin' me for a change... Then again, seems I'm plum out of grabby bits." Smirk spreading into a devlish grin, Amorru jutted his hips out in reference to the money clip in his front pocket. "'Course, on the off chance some lovely bird wanted to lend a lad a hand - if you know what I mean."

Amorru's typical air of self satisfaction melted away as an oblivious, disinterested Charity pushed past him, her skirts brushing against his leg in a way that made his skin tingle. Turning his head back Artemis's way, perhaps in hopes that she might want to fish the money clip from his pocket, Amorru's hopes deflated as he noticed her looking back into the street. Alas, he couldn't be less interested in whatever caught her eye in spite of him, and when his gaze drifted away from her and toward Grace's disapproving scowl he merely rolled his eyes and turned back toward the counter. The transaction complete, Charity turned back toward him with a bag full of baked goodness as he took a warm, gooey bite of the bagel in his hand.

Quote from: Charity on January 15, 2019, 06:25:03 am
" said it was this way? Now where?"

"Where's what then?" Amorru looked at Charity with an expression of genuine confusion, oblivious to the spot of cream cheese stuck to the corner of his mouth. A look of sudden, shocked realization overcame him as if he just then realized that Wushu's Captain Xavier set them about a specific task to begin with. "Oh. A tailor. Right. Well. I dunno." With a shrug the pilot completely relieved himself of any and all responsibility in the matter, strolling out casually before glancing to the right of the shop and seeing a mannequin dressed in a rather garish - even for his own standards - formal suit adorned with a brilliantly shining broach and a vibrant, bright red sash lined in peacock feathers. "Y'know," he started before stopping to pry a bit of chewed bagel from between his teeth with his tongue, "if ever I came into a boat of my own, I figure I'll name her Serendipity. What say you, Governess?" Amorru offered Charity his most smug expression, gesturing across the walkway toward their next destination.
It's a mechanical bull at number one You'll take a ride from anyone
Everyone wants a ride, pulls away, Ooh, From you

Metric, "Black Sheep"


January 23, 2019, 05:56:23 pm #10 Last Edit: January 23, 2019, 06:05:50 pm by RUNE
Inside 'A Cut Above', a quaint but impressive outfitter's providing custom services on a variety of styles to suit men, women, or anyone in between.

The quartet entered the building, the museum-esque display of fashionable designs not lost on any of them. Nor, likely, would the evocative garden of weave and hue be looked upon with unappreciative disinterest. Styles of garments drew inspiration from vintage Earth-That-Was designs including 19th century bustle dresses, Elizabethan tea gowns, Regency era empire dresses, and even a modern take on the 18th century robes a la francaise. Suit jackets ran the gamut of peak and shawl lapels, single and double breasted, unstructured and patch pocket, cut to fit in slim, classic, and ultra-modern styles. Hats for any occasion - including trilbies, gamblers, fedoras, panamas, fascinators, pillboxes, turbans, and fanciful, sweeping derbies - displayed in rows of their own along walls of imported and stained mahogany, or were otherwise set atop the finely dressed mannequins to match.

The salon smelled of the highly polished and ornately carved wood making up the walls, crowning, and much of the furniture inside, along with a hint of flowery perfume wafting through the air. Once directed to sit in the cushioned, velvety couches while they awaited service, the four members of the Wushu crew maintained an only somewhat mannequin-obscured view of the street outside: the bakery diagonally across, with a jeweler not far down the row, and perhaps their cortex-preoccupied stalker making his way toward a confectioner to afford himself a better view of his quarry. Once the garment shop's staff began attending to their needs, measuring each of them that needed fitting in their own time and using what models stood at their disposal as stand-ins for those wedding crashers not currently present, complimentary hors d'oeuvres and wine - though nothing exceedingly expensive - became available to ease any mounting boredom.

I know that I hung on a windy tree nine long nights, wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin, myself to myself, on that tree of which no man knows from where its roots run.
No bread did they give me nor a drink from a horn, downwards I peered; I took up the runes, screaming I took them, then I fell back from there.
The songs I know that king's wives know not Nor men that are sons of men.
So do I write and color the runes.


 Charity followed Amorru out of the bakery, his attention drawing her own to the right where she spotted the mannequin only seconds after him. "Y'know," he started before stopping to pry a bit of chewed bagel from between his teeth with his tongue, "if ever I came into a boat of my own, I figure I'll name her Serendipity. What say you, Governess?" he asked.

The debutante turned her head to look Amy's face over slowly, gaze dipping toward his lips and the glob of warm, unnoticed cream cheese stuck at the corner of it. Eyes flickered back up to his eyes and she smiled winningly, electing not to tell him about the mess as some sort of playful punishment for his smugness. "Quite," she replied warmly, the mischief barely hidden in her eyes. Somewhere near them, Grace seemed to notice and couldn't help but smile broadly at the woman's choice, also deciding to keep her mouth shut about the cream cheese, although it did look cute...she shook her head to stop her thoughts right where they were and went back to scowling grumpily at the pilot.

With a smile, Charity unloaded all her baked goodies into Amorru's arms before heading toward and into the atelier, pulling the others along in her rustling wake. She ooh'd and awww'd over the display dresses, forgetting about her worries and the bagels as she picked out a gown of each type, asking if they would have enough time to make them custom for her crew and being remarkably startled when she was told they'd be sold from the store today...with only the barest of alterations. Still, it was better than nothing, she supposed.

Once the dresses had been picked out and the altering was underway, Charity turned to look out the window, holding a glass of wine and sighing heavily. From here, she spotted the jewelry stand and looked back toward her companions, who all seemed busy being poked and prodded by the shop's staff and were wrapped up in fabric and sassy comments to one another. "I'll be right back," she said to no one, stepping outside with her glass and making a b-line toward the glimmering accessories. After all, what was a dress without some jewels?
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Akhsar King

King was starting to fidget, albeit internally.  Come on, come on, comeoncomeoncomeon. He thought. His patience was rewarded, finally, when Charity and her companions headed towards a tailor a little ways down the row. They disappeared inside and he made his way down the street to the bakery. The line was only a couple people long, and there were enough reflections that he could keep an eye on the door to the tailor without seeming to, so he got in line. There was always the possibility that his quarry were, even now, escaping out a back entrance... but King doubted it. He was certain that while 2 or 3 of them had definitely laid eyes on him, none of them had picked him up as a tail.

The line moved quickly, and he bought a bagel that had a variety of cheeses baked onto it. He stepped outside and casually surveyed the street while slowly eating the unexpectedly delicious baked good. He pondered his next move. The situation was still not ideal. He wasn't looking forward to having to walk into the tailors to make his play. Too many people. However if this was their only stop and they headed back to the ship... that carried its own set of tactical problems.

Thankfully his first good luck moment of the day happened a moment later, as Charity exited the tailor alone, and headed straight for a jewelry shop just down the block. King waited a moment to make sure she was actually alone, and then walked off down the street. Not directly after her at first, but changing direction the way someone might if they'd seen something on display that caught their eye.

Charity stepped up the the displays and began to peruse through them. King stepped up next to her, not to close, but close enough that his quiet words wouldn't carry far in the semi crowded street. "Well, I have to say Miss Vornbach," He wasn't looking directly at her, rather down at the display, watching her with his peripheral vision. "You are a hard person to track down."


January 26, 2019, 03:33:07 pm #13 Last Edit: January 26, 2019, 03:42:26 pm by Lomari
Skirts rustling, the debutante made her way to the jeweler’s outside displays, taking a small sip of her wine, not seeming to mind that she was walking along the streets like she owned the place, wine glass in hand. An elegant hand lowered to the collection of rings before her, fingertips sliding over the gems as she bent at the waist a little to get a closer look. A great many of them were fake, which pained her deeply, but she was starting to understand that maybe the point here wasn’t to make her crew mates into fashionable people, but jut to make them look like they were, so perhaps fake versus real didn’t matter so much. She’d just begun to reach out to pick up an ornate gilded ‘ruby’ ring when she heard something she’d hoped she’d never hear again.

Her own last name.

"Well, I have to say Miss Vornbach…you are a hard person to track down."

Her jeweled fingers froze in place, blue blood turning to ice in her veins. To her credit, the expression on her face did not change from her standard pleasant mask, although from her body language it was clear that she was both shocked and afraid by this man’s sudden appearance. After a moment of deep and almost panicked thought, Charity picked up the ring and looked it over, letting out a slow breath to calm her nerves. She slipped it over one of her manicured fingers and held her hand out in front of her, turning it this way and that to see how the fake gem sparkled.

“I’m at a disadvantage, I’m afraid,” she began, not looking at him and hoping she’d just imagined that he was there at all. “I don’t know your name,” she explained softly, pulling the ring off and setting the silver accessory back into its velvet slot in the display box. Her hands shook only once before she got herself under control once more. Standing straight, Charity took a longer, deeper sip of her wine and finally turned her head ever so slightly, looking at the man beside her with a charming smile. It seemed she didn’t want anyone coming nearer to investigate either. Her dark curls framed her soft features just about perfectly, as was intended, and her cherry lips had been painted with a deep and appropriate crimson shade that was likely more expensive than the entirety of the faux gems assembled here.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Akhsar King

He watched Charity closely out of the corner of his eye, for the briefest moment expecting her to hike up her skirts and make a run for it, but she seemed to be made of sterner stuff. Her expression didn't change a bit, though her body language certainly spoke volumes. She froze for just a moment, before deliberately picking up a ring, inspecting it, and trying it on.

Quote"I'm at a disadvantage, I'm afraid," she began, not looking at him and hoping she'd just imagined that he was there at all. "I don't know your name,"

He turned his head a bit to look more directly at her, an amiable half smile on his face, and casually reached a hand up to remove his sunglasses. She removed the ring from her finger and placed it back in the display, and he was pretty sure he saw her hands trembling for the shortest moment. She straightened, took a sip of her wine, and turned slightly to look at him as well. The smile she gave was quite charming, and perfectly hid the panic and fear that her body language hinted at. She was quite beautiful, he had to admit, pictures didn't do her justice.

Kings head tilted a little to one side as he replied. "That is a fair point. My name is King. Akhsar King. I'm what you might call a finder. I find things. Usually stolen goods. Art, jewels, sculptures and the like. I was hired by one Mr Doctor Lord Boyer." He watched closely for her reaction to the name, and to the insult that followed. "Bit of a cocky young slime ball, but what boy that grew up with that much money isn't, eh? Anyways, he's contracted me to retrieve four particular items that you allegedly took with you when you skedaddled, one of which you seem to be wearing now. Family heirlooms I was told." He spoke quickly, but not rushed. His enunciation was clear, but not overtly precise. His accent would mark him as someone who grew up on Persephone, or at the very least spent a lot of time.

King honestly hoped her reaction or reply would do something to confirm his suspicions of Boyer. He liked the little prick about as far as he could throw a tank.


"That is a fair point. My name is King. Akhsar King. I'm what you might call a finder. I find things. Usually stolen goods. Art, jewels, sculptures and the like," he told her and she nodded along politely as he spoke, looking his face over before allowing herself one curious once over from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head, gaze assessing.

"I was hired by one Mr Doctor Lord Boyer," King added and for the smallest, infinitesimal second, real fear crept into Charity's eyes and furrowed her brows, her free hand moving up to settle over her heart as though he could hear it and in doing so she could muffle how fast it was beating. Another second passed and her well practiced and excessively refined composure took hold, pulling her features back into a polite and easy smile. She turned her head away from him, looking over the display of rings and pretending to consider them again, her ruby lower lip trapped between her teeth as she considered what he was saying and the implications of it all.

She could try to run, but in this outfit she had no doubt that he would catch her easily and embarrassingly. Knocking over the display and hiding in a shop was on her list of escape routes, but again, he likely had thought of all of this and knew all the ways she could run. "Bit of a cocky young slime ball, but what boy that grew up with that much money isn't, eh?" he continued, blatantly insulting his employer. Her brows lifted and she turned her head to stare at him, chocolate curls bouncing over her shoulder, one of them momentarily obstructing her face before it slid back into place. She seemed to consider him a little closer, frowning in thought and shaking her head a bit to herself, her hand moving off the rings to touch the outline of the locket that was tucked beneath the front of her glimmering dress.

"Anyways, he's contracted me to retrieve four particular items that you allegedly took with you when you skedaddled, one of which you seem to be wearing now. Family heirlooms I was told," the man continued.

"Took?" she repeated carefully, clearly not understanding what he meant. Her hand slid up over her chest, around the back of her head, and touched on the expensive hairpin holding some of her curls back. All she had on now that he could say she took was her jewelry, her locket, her hairpin, and her dress. "What am I supposed to have taken?" she asked him, raising a brow and lowering her hand, her voice calm once more and her head tilted to the side curiously. If he was here to retrieve things then that could mean he wasn't there to retrieve her.

A thought occurred to her and she took a slow deep breath, "Out of curiosity, Mister King," she began, looking him over once more before casting a glance at the street around them, "Were you accompanied?" she asked, hoping against all hopes that he wasn't being followed by his employer.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Akhsar King

Charity's reactions were interesting indeed. King caught the brief furrowing of her brow at the mention of Boyer, and though he couldn't be sure, he thought she was... afraid of the man? Or maybe just afraid of getting caught. She also seemed slightly confused at his blunt insult of her fiance. Ex fiance?

Quote"Took? What am I supposed to have taken?"

He was about to reply when she took a deep breath and continued.

Quote"Out of curiosity, Mister King, were you accompanied?"

The amiable smile still in place, he considered her for a moment. "I have a few associates waiting nearby, yes." The lie rolled off his tongue as easy as any truth. "Though, if you mean Mr Doctor Lord, no. He ain't here." A moments pause to gauge her reaction, and then he continued. "As for what I've been told you took, one diamond and emerald encrusted necklace that honestly is a bit to ornate for my tastes. A sapphire encrusted ring in the shape of a butterfly. A dress inlaid with gold thread and embroidered with crystals and diamonds. And that fancy hairpin you're currently sporting. The terms of my contract are to return said items to Boyer, and send him your current location."


"I have a few associates waiting nearby, yes," he informed her, and the woman nodded slowly, watching him and clearly waiting for more of an answer than that. Her body was still, gaze locked upon his face. She looked very much like a deer waiting to see if the man before her would pull the trigger or let her go.

"Though, if you mean Mr Doctor Lord, no. He ain't here," King continued. A slow breath slipped past her crimson lips, slender shoulders lowering as some of the tension seemed to melt from her body. It was clear that she was far less afraid of or worried about the man before her than she was of his employer. Which was foolish, to be sure. She honestly had no idea if this man planned on harming her in some way, but for now that thought was miles away from her worries. 

"As for what I've been told you took, one diamond and emerald encrusted necklace that honestly is a bit to ornate for my tastes. A sapphire encrusted ring in the shape of a butterfly. A dress inlaid with gold thread and embroidered with crystals and diamonds. And that fancy hairpin you're currently sporting," he told her, listing off everything she was supposedly meant to have stolen. With each added item, one brow arched higher and higher, matching the level of her incredulity. Each item he listed was in fact a family heirloom. From her family, but if giving up the items meant that he'd go away and she wouldn't have to be bothered by Boyer any longer, she'd do it gladly. Her hand lifted once more to touch upon the hairpin in her hair, readying to remove it. However, his next sentence gave her pause.

"The terms of my contract are to return said items to Boyer, and send him your current location," he said. Her lips parted and brows lifted, surprise on her face. She was too afraid to feel afraid and so she could only feel shock and confusion. "My..." she began, lowering her hand and looking around, forcing herself to breathe as she glanced back toward the salon. "My current location," Charity repeated in a whisper. Unable to keep herself calm, save for her outward appearance, she reached into one of the side pockets hidden in the folds of her dress and pulled out her fan. With a flick of her wrist, she snapped it open and set to fanning herself, her eyes lowering to the jewelry display, seeing nothing. She couldn't let that happen. Her eyes lifted to scan the streets as she thought. They weren't going to be here long, so perhaps it wouldn't be too big of a deal. However, he'd likely be able to track her next step if this man told him what ship she'd come and gone upon.

Not sure what to say, Charity looked upon this 'King' individual again, her curls moving softly as she fanned herself. "I have no qualms about giving you my items," she began, puckering her lips a little and considering her next move, "However, I must object to you giving him my location. Surely he won't need it if he has my..." she sighed and shook her head in mild defeat, "...'his' items?" she asked.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

Akhsar King

January 28, 2019, 01:06:45 pm #18 Last Edit: January 28, 2019, 01:07:30 pm by Akhsar King
King watched the effects his words had. The knowledge that Boyer wasn't here clearly made her relax a great deal. Right, so not afraid of getting caught, just afraid of Boyer. As he listed off the items her eyebrow rose in incredulity. Either she was legitimately confused, or she was playing him... but based on her other reactions he was inclined to believe the former.

So far she had done nothing to convince him that Boyer was on the level, but also nothing that would convince him that the man had broken their contract. She was even starting to look hopeful at the prospect of only having to give up the items, and reached up to presumably remove the hairpin, but his next words elicited her strongest reaction yet. One of surprise, shock, and fear. Kings amiable smile vanished, and was replaced by an expression of thoughtful concern. Well then, not just scared, but terrified.

Quote"I have no qualms about giving you my items," "However, I must object to you giving him my location. Surely he won't need it if he has my..." she sighed and shook her head in mild defeat, "...'his' items?"

King regarded Charity for a few moments as the gears in his head churned away. He'd been contracted to do a job, and nothing he had seen yet could be considered a breach of contract. From the way she reacted, and the way she spoke about the items, she clearly considered them hers and not Boyer's. That in and of itself wasn't conclusive though, they could have been given as gifts, with the assumption that the wedding was going to go through... Or the items could actually belong to her, and the only thing Boyer wanted was Charity. Or at least her location. And from his experience, fear like she was displaying usually had a cause, one that went beyond getting caught with a few stolen items.

He could just ask, but could he trust her answer? Trust your gut. You haven't liked this job from the start. It smelled rotten before you even heard what it was. He mentally flipped a coin. Heads.

He sighed, and closed his eyes for a brief second. He opened them again and turned to face Charity directly, moving a couple inches closer in the process, and crossed his arms. "So there's this clause. I add it at the end of every contract I take. Bunch of legal-speak. Basically says that if the client gives me information in bad faith, or gives me information he knows to be false, it voids the contract. That clause is how I extricate myself from a bad contract." He stopped there, and waited for her reply. He hoped that was a big enough hint to what course of action might be effective for her to take.


The stranger stepped forward closer to her and she had to fight to stay put, not wanting onlookers to find this situation interesting as well as wanting to keep the conversation calm and action-free. Still, she did tense up beneath her miles of lace and fabrics.

"So there's this clause. I add it at the end of every contract I take. Bunch of legal-speak. Basically says that if the client gives me information in bad faith, or gives me information he knows to be false, it voids the contract. That clause is how I extricate myself from a bad contract," he told her and she frowned at him, her chin tilting away from him ever so slightly.

A inhale of understanding lifted her chest, body pressing against the confines of her gown in a distracting sort of way. Well, to anyone other than him, most likely. She turned her head toward the salon again to make sure no one had come out just yet, lower lip disappearing between her teeth.

She closed her fan and slowly slid it back into its pocket, thinking things over as quickly as she could under the circumstances. With a noise of unease, Charity stepped closer to him, reaching up to set a hand on his cheek before sliding it back into his hair, playing at a couple being affectionate. Her eyes were locked upon his, although the look in them was firm and determined and not filled with moon brained love. She didn't know why he was offering up helpful information, but she wasn't going to let it slip away, not when it was this important.

"He's lying to you," she told him in a soft breathy whisper, "He's a murderer, and only I know it," Charity added, clenching her jaw a little to keep the glimmer in her eyes from spilling over into tears. Her brows furrowed and she took another deep breath, lowering her hand from the back of his head to idly trace circles along his crossed arms, still pretending to be closer to him for the sake of the onlooker and her secrets. "My accessories mean nothing to him, but they got you here, to me, and that's what he wants. If you tell him where I am, I don't know what will happen to me..." she told him honestly. Boyer had turned out to be far less predictable than she'd thought he was.

Charity glanced down at his arms for a moment before settling her hand on his wrist and looking back up at him, waiting to see what he decided to do and gambling with her wellbeing. She put herself entirely at his mercy.
Dialogue Color: AntiqueWhite

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