Old August 12, 2013, 08:50 PM   #1 (permalink)
Join Date: Jun 2013
Location: Nexus Prime
Posts: 308
Wealth Tier: Steel
Aeredith Verlaine is a famous HeroAeredith Verlaine is a famous Hero



"What do you think?"

"Odd. You always end up looking odd."

"Yes. A flaw perhaps."

"Are all Gypsies like you, odd?"

"Maybe. Right now I am no Air'rielan though, I am.. Who am I?" She leans in closer to her own reflection.

"Who are you?" and turns in her chair to look at herself from a side on angle. Maas flits off to circle above her.

"Hello." she says.

Silence. She stares hard at herself.


Her unblinking stare casts her eyes into ever increasing discs, the shock of red hair, severely cut, inflames as her focus dizzies.

She blinks.

"Sera." says the woman with the red hair in the reflection.

"Sera." she replies.

"Who might you be?"

A lengthy pause as she stares hard at herself.

"Well? Cat got your tongue?" she glances down to the shiny new Visa resting upon the dresser, a perk of Inquisitorial work, and coughs. Her eyes once more rise to her reflection.

"Who are you?" again she stares, searching the altered appearance of herself for something, anything, from which to speak from. She shakes her head, pouts in a theatrical show of sadness, playfully revelling in the vanity of a different her.

"Who are you!" she suddenly demands. Maas flutters, watchful.

"I am Meriam." comes the reply in a strained voice that now seems to have been dragged through gravel. She coughs at the impulsive effort of speaking differently. Maas giggles.

"Meriam?" she asks herself, wiping away a tear.

"Yes, Meriam.." another glance down to the Visa.

"Venadaire." another cough. She pauses, gathers herself, concentrates.

"Meriam Venadaire." her tongue literally purrs out the surname.

"It is pleasant to make your acquaintance, Meriam. And where might you hail from?" She patiently waits for the answer as she searches internally for it.

"I hail from Vortex. I am a merchants daughter. My Mother is the sister of Ulrich Dracoon of Dracoon Exotics."

"Ah.. So you are.. just visiting?"

"Yes. I am here as a representative of my Father. I am looking for opportunities to expand our business ventures."

"Well it is nice to meet you, Meriam Venadaire. Have you any plans for this evening?..


"I'm going out into the night, I'm going to score some Snakewood, maybe some Halpine. Then I'm going to break into the house of a recently murdered man and try to paint the face of his killer." She reaches across and grasps a roll of canvas. Maas, enraptured, giggles at this little show.

"Meriam, you do know that such substances are illegal don't you?"

"I do, but.. It is for a good cause you know."

"So it is, so it is. I shall turn a blind eye to this, just once, only once. You do know who I am, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Then who am I?"


"Am I?"

"Yes, and you are me."

"I am?"


"Then that's settled then. When do you depart for this evenings activities?"

"When you decide to leave, Aeredith."

"Quite, quite. Shall we?"


"What is it?"

"That, up there. Who are you?"

Maas bursts into rasping laughter. Meriam winks at her in the mirror and sits patiently waiting for an answer. The penny drops as Maas does in a slow descending spiral.

"Maasiopeia, Maas to my friends. I like your hair, Meriam."

"Thank you."

"I will be coming out to play with you tonight, if you would like that?"

"Oh yes! I love having friends."

"Excellent. I will be making sure you don't get into any trouble. Nexus at night can be a lot of trouble."

"You will make sure I am safe?"

"Of course, you'll be fine with me."

She stands, collects her things in silence and with Maas accompanying her, Meriam Venadaire and Aeredith Verlaine depart the the offices of the Nexus Inquisition.

The evening, balmy. The city, busy. Among the stream of living people flowing through the lanes and alleys of the Docks she passes, slinking and gliding past the myriad faces herself set on a most unspectacular destination. It is a byproduct of the profession that she is in that, through the accumulation of knowledge, she will come into contact with those who are less than savoury. She finds her man leaning on the stone wall of an entrance into a thin lane behind him. She watches as he peruses the people that pass him with a vested interest. Making sure to keep his voice low she can see him gauge a dozen or so faces and then make his offer to one that he will deem most likely to be responsive. His hit rate is to be respected, for it is after watching him complete several transactions within the space of a quarter candlemark that she decides to approach him. She approaches with an affected air of mild curiosity for her surroundings, a play she hopes will plant the seed within him that she is new here in the city. She glances at him as she passes, he smiles and motions for her with one forefinger to approach him, she does so.


"Wanna really see the city?"

"How do you mean?"

"I have things that will really make you see it, see it all. If you have the coin, that is."

"I have coin. What are you offering?"

"Come." he walks backwards into the darkening alley. She hesitates.

"Don't worry, I'm not into anything other than sellin' my wares."

She walks toward him with the light of the lane now on her back.

"Like what, exactly?"

"Like this." he produces a waxen pouch and opens it, there, she see's a clump of moist dark substance.

"Kale Tar. Finest in Arium."

"Kale Tar is for Theyri Folk.."

In his eyes he see's something move on the silhouette of her shoulder.

"What's that?" he rasps.

"A friend. Is she right?"

"What is she?"

"A Fae, you're trying to sell us poison."

"Okay, okay. How about this?" he reaches in and produces a small cream coloured envelope, no bigger than a mouth organ in length. His fingers work in opening it out, he presents the ivory coloured powder within as if it were a wedding band.



"Yes, Sprite bone, Snake poison, Toad back. Strong, so you should be careful. Here, try before you buy."

"What does it do?"

"It.. opens you out, opens your eyes. Try." he steps forward and gestures her to dab a little onto her finger, she does so. He motions for her to rub it on her gums, she does so.

The effect is instantaneuous. Her breath exhales in one long stream through ever more numbing lips. In her vision the night walls on either side of her illuminate into cascading surfaces of intricate mesh work, breathing.

"The walls are alive."

He smiles.

"See? You see?"

"I always knew these walls were alive."

He nods the nod of a parent who is aware their child is naive in the world around them.

"Can you see it all?"

She could, everywhere she turned her head now she was met with a stark realisation that the city she had so fallen in love with, was in fact, and always had been, very much alive. The lines of window frames bent into liquifying meanders that blinked as she blinked. Doorways adopted themselves into forms of maws that whispered the exact words she thought they did. Rooftops high above became quiffs or sweeping manes, great luxuriant locks of slate hair, thatch tops as facial hair, cobblestone as gooseflesh, lines in walls now capillaries. High, aware. Tuned in to the living rock of architectural endeavour. Then came the sounds. A City of Sighs came the thought and with it they reached her ears, sporadically at first, then developed into a continual stream of them, long drawn out and achingly beautiful exhales, from every nook and cranny they came to overlap one another, to play within her ears. The city of Nexus Prime with an effort to affront the ills of the ill-willed actions wrought upon it by willing evils. It broke her heart to hear the city speak with such melancholia. It broke her hea..

"Do you have the coin then?" he remarks, reeling her back in from the world now around her. His countenance now carved deep in harsh light and dark, his skin the greyish white of coffin meat.

"You're a Spectre of the night." to which he only nods, knowing that he now communicates with someone chemically-heightened.

"Yes. I want all you have." came her voice again, distant to her own ears, layered in ways she did not think perceptively possible.

"You have the coin? 50 Crowns.."

"You are lying. I can see them through the skin of your face. I see into you."

His grin shifts wryly, placating, cunning.

"I told you it was good. 40 Crowns then. I'll be here regular enough, should you want more."

"Very well." she paid the man and backed out once more into the throng, and what a throng it now appeared to her as. Snaking faces blurred under lamplight, the colours tracing themselves in lines like fleshy ribbons. She walked, intent now to reach her macabre destination and attempt a vague drug-fuelled divination, an opportunity to glance through the doors to the imprints upon the air found beyond. Yet what stopped her fluidly walking was nothing but a mundane notice. She neared it making sure not to bump into any that passed her and rested her wildly dilating vision upon the words scribed there.

"Sovereign of Chains."

"What do you think that is?" she asks. Maas, now lazily resting on her front upon her Inquisitor's shoulder, squints to read it.

To the stones upon the board,

If you seek to fatten your purse with crowns
If you do not ask the wrong questions or mind getting your hands dirty
A job is offered this night
Seek the Sovereign of Chains

"I can't say. It doesn't sound lawful."


She reads it once again.

"I do not seek to fatten my purse, I make a point to ask the wrong questions, my hands are clean." and turns her head down to the Fae upon her shoulder.

"Let us seek this Ruler of Binds."

"Ooh.." the Fae replies.

"How exciting!"

Last edited by Aeredith Verlaine; July 20, 2014 at 07:39 AM.
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