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| A Pound of Flesh; [P] Irene | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:26 am (559 Views) | |
| Irena | Thu Dec 28, 2017 5:12 am Post #16 |
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The sight of 3 familiar faces had been enough to make her blood run cold. The tall blonde in the middle was unmistakably Hysteria. It was fitting they had sent her, with her calm personality and silver tongue. Maybe they had thought the older girl could cajole Irena into giving herself up without violence. The others, Cassian and Pima, were no doubt along to provide some semblance of muscle. None of them were true fighters, not like Irena had had to become. Still, there were three of them facing off against one lone figure, and Irena stifled a gasp when she saw who it was. You...you idiot! Irena couldn't tell if her heart had stopped beating completely, or had just begun to hammer faster than she could register. Though she couldn't hear the words being exchanged, Ioann's tone and gestures were unmistakably angry, and she caught the glimmer of a shiny blade in his hand reflecting from the lantern light. She pressed her nose against the cold glass, unable to look away. Just give me up. Move aside and let them in the door. Promise them you never saw them, or me, or anybody. Her mind pleaded, though she knew her family would be anything but merciful. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the window's surface, uncaring at last if she was seen. I did this to you. I came here to thank you for saving my life, and instead I've taken yours. A gut wrenching spasm of pain rippled through her core, and as her knees buckled the world faded away. Dimly, she was aware of a woman screaming in the background, and as her vision started to refocus she began to realize the shrieking howl was being produced by her own vocal cords. Grinding her teeth together, she forced herself upwards til she was crouched on her heels, once more taking stock of the action outside. They had to have heard her, it was only a matter of time til they mowed him down and took what they came for. She was just in time to watch Ioann spring forward, blade arcing in the air. Hysteria would easily see the attack coming, be able to sidestep it, but just in time Irena realized the girl herself had never been the target. Instead the small, fabric bag Hysteria had wielded like a weapon burst open at the seems, shiny trinkets tumbling down onto the cobblestones.. The sudden absence of pain was like a physical weight had been lifted, as if Irena were instantaneously 10, 20, 50 pounds lighter. Tentatively, she reached her right hand back to undo where she had tied her makeshift sling, and as the fabric fell away she flexed her left arm in turn. A grin began to crawl across her face, sharp and cruel along the edges of her lips. Besides a residual burning, (and really, when did that ever go away), it was like nothing had ever been wrong. Did you really travel all this way to have faith that this would shackle me? Gloved hands gripping the window's edge, she shoved upwards, then scrambled through the opening. Her gloves and boots gripped the loose bricks on the building face easily as she scurried down a few feet, then vaulted away from the surface to land with a twist on the street below. Around them, lanterns were bursting to light, neighbors waking to the fact that something was happening outside. The glowing orbs further illuminated Irena's face, revealing a savage smile that did nothing to reach her eyes. "Sister!" She spat mockingly, dipping down in an exaggerated bow. "You've come a long way to find me. And here I stand. Tell me it's so good to see my face again." |
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| Ioann | Sat Dec 30, 2017 1:31 am Post #17 |
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She landed liquid-soft, like a shadow. But the cruel grin didn’t make Ioann question his loyalties. If anything, like a parent witnessing his child bloody the schoolyard bully’s nose for the first time, it made him proud. He stepped to the side to let Irena approach her tenders, his snarl curling into a smile that matched hers. He would not be helpless. Not here. Not on his own front step. Yellow be damned. “Ever notice how you come across somebody once in a while you shouldn't have [removed]ed with?” Ioann spat at the would-be kidnappers’ feet. “That's us.” |
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| Irena | Sun Dec 31, 2017 5:09 am Post #18 |
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The three didn't look so pleased with their odds now that it wasn't two against one anymore. A flash of unease crossed all of their faces, and they turned in unison to exchange a quick look. Hysteria tried once more, in vain. "Sister!" She pleaded, hands wringing together. "You must return with us. You have been gone far too long, it will not bode well for you to remain lost. You must obey, for all our sakes." "You must." Pima echoed, the first words she had spoken in this exchange. Cassian kept his thoughts to himself, and his eyes on the street. "Obey??" Irena's eye twitched at the thought, her hands curling into tighter fists. "A slave obeys. I am a free woman, I always have been, despite what you all tried to drill into me my whole life." She shifted her feet, muscles tensed to spring. "If you don't turn tail and run away right now, you might be able to return home. But it will be in a coffin, after I've rearranged some limbs." The threat was enough. The fanatics shrank together in formation, exchanging a few hushed words amongst themselves. "Another day...support...Madrigal." All floated down the street to Ioann and Irena's listening ears, and Irena stiffened slightly at the mention of the final name. Finally Hysteria turned back towards them, despair plainly visible on her features. "This doesn't have a happy end, dearest one." She said mournfully, before backing away down the street. The woman's eyes flickered back to Ioann before resting on Irena's face again. "These people, they are not helping you. Not like we could." Irena watched them retreat, careful to keep her guard up until they rounded a far off corner. Only once they were out of sight did she drop her arms, stumbling back a few steps to sink down on the curb. With one hand, she raked the hair back away from her face, doing her best to control her breathing. The terror she had forced down during the altercation appeared in full force, causing her to babble like a madman. "As you can probably tell, they're no relation of mine." She trilled, voice on the edge of hysteria. "I appreciate you keeping them off my back, even though I barely know you. So that's another favor I owe you." Irena looked at her side, as if she expected to find the crate of paper she'd filched, letting loose an unhinged giggle when there was nothing. "And I haven't even finished the last favor I did for you. So we're two to zero, now." She covered her face with her hands for a moment, the rough sharkskin of her gloves prickling at her skin. "Why do you keep helping me?" Her words came out muffled, she hoped the man could get the gist of it. It was embarrassing to owe her life to a virtually stranger twice over now, and her pride would never recover if she met Ioann's eyes and saw only pity, or scorn. Just some street rat, bringing trouble to his doorstep. |
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| Ioann | Mon Jan 1, 2018 8:37 pm Post #19 |
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Ioann tried to unspool the tension with the retreat of Irena’s family, but found it too tightly wound. With effort, he slid the stiletto back into his sleeve and let out a puff of air through pursed lips, watching the condensation mist away in the early morning chill. After a beat, he looked over at the girl. “’No relation?’ Who were those people? You know,” he frowned, “on second thought, don’t answer that. None of my business.” He turned back to his door and, ensuring she couldn’t see his hands, rearranged the sigils on the lock. It clicked open. “Why don’t you-” She wasn’t his daughter. “-come inside. Grab your bag-” He didn’t have a daughter. “-I think I’ve had enough for one night.” Why did he keep helping her? Ioann pushed open the door, flourished his hand a bit mockingly, but found he couldn’t meet her eyes. “I helped you in the camp because you needed it. I think it’s clear you don’t need it anymore. Forget the paper, I’ll scrounge something up. Just... get your bag-” he clenched his jaw. Convinced himself it had nothing to do with a yellow scarf. It would be better this way. Better for both of them. He wasn’t her father, wasn’t even a father at all. No reason to start pretending over some back alley urchin that happened to share Elena’s eyes. “-and get outta here. I’ve got work to do.” |
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| Irena | Tue Jan 2, 2018 8:34 am Post #20 |
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Try as she might, as inappropriate as it was for the tone of this conversation, Irena couldn't restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "You have work to do? In the middle of the night? Okay, fine. Totally legitimate, tax paying work I'm sure." The last bit of bravado took all the wind out of her sails. It was the middle of the night, and what a long night it had been indeed. She self consciously twisted the strap her satchel, swinging it around to her front. "I..uh, I retrieved my bag already." Broke in. Retrieved. Same difference. "I wasn't kidding earlier, when I told you that-" She gestured to the lock with a wave of her own hand, "-wouldn't keep me out. But don't worry, I didn't peak when you unlocked it. Your secret is safe." Irena swallowed once, then tilted her head to stare down at the cobblestones instead of the now angry man in front of her. And why wouldn't he be angry? She was just Irena, the thief, the liar, the mouthy brat, somehow coexisting as both nobody's and everybody's problem. "I'll leave." She said softly. "You don't need to worry about those cretins returning." He didn't need to know the details of how they wouldn't be returning. Sighing, she turned to leave, hesitating at the last second. Instead she turned back around to pull herself up to her diminutive height, head held high. "You're right, it's not your business. But let me just over simplify it a bit and tell you that my life is a mess. It's chaos, and you were kind. You're right, nothing more to it than that." "I hope.." Irena took a second to compose her thoughts, sincere compliments were never her forte. "I hope whatever this city has made you become, whatever you've had to leave behind, I hope that stays." As she finished, she flashed a genuine smile, the tentativeness in her face making it obvious that this was a rare gesture. Skills Used
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| Ioann | Sat Jan 6, 2018 4:59 pm Post #21 |
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“Irena...” Ioann sighed, drawing his good hand up to massage his eyes. He wouldn’t let Balefire win this round. “...it’s complicated.” And that was before. He let out another long gust of air, less exasperation and more a primer for the question he’d been trying not to want to ask. “Why don’t you come inside, stay for a bit. Have some tea. We can -” he hesitated a moment, rolling the word over on his tongue, “-talk.” He met her gaze, finally, and felt a wall break somewhere in his chest. Despite her eyes, she wasn’t Elena, but that had never been the point. She wasn’t the daughter they’d never had either. But maybe she could be something else. Something even the city – even his own self-destructive tendencies – couldn’t sour. “This damn city hasn’t beaten me yet. And as for the work,” Ioann gave her the best grin he could manage, though it was only a slipshod, halfway thing, “you know damn well it ain’t taxable income. Welcome to Balefire, kid.” Skills Used
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| Irena | Mon Jan 22, 2018 7:30 pm Post #22 |
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The girl shuffled her feet slightly, before quickly darting forward. She wasn't going to chance that he would extend this invitation a second time. Sliding past him through the doorway, she trailed her fingers along the smudged chalk outline she had left behind on the door. She would refrain from mentioning the other shakily drawn circle he would eventually find on the ceiling in his office. Irena was suddenly embarrassed to have been here before, skulking around, and the shame was only amplified now that she stood in the front room with permission to be there. Standing in the center of the space, unsure where to go while he made tea, she tried to best to make conversation. "So...you live here alone I take it? Obviously..I mean." Nailed it. Rubbing at her forehead, she sighed and scrunched her eyes shut. "I apologize. I don't get much practice talking to...well, anybody. I forget what I should say out loud versus what I should think quietly and all that." Pacing slightly, she took a detour to peak out the front window. "You seem to hate it here." She said mildly, keeping Ioann in her peripheral vision even as she glanced outside. "So why stay? Balefire isn't the only city in the world. And its definitely not the best." Tracing a finger on the cold glass, she kept up her vigil. Ostensibly watching for more visitors, in truth it was just easier to look anywhere but at the man she now owed her life too twice over. "I'll probably have to leave, after this." She said softly. "Not forever, just...awhile. Sometimes I don't know why I come back, either." |
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| Ioann | Fri Jan 26, 2018 2:02 am Post #23 |
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“Yeah, I live alone. Here, and a few other safehouses around the district. Having a few holes is never a bad thing, even before the Taming. Used to be we hid from vamps, wolves, even rivals,” he mused, “but now it’s the Constabulary.” Ioann let a slow exhale play out across his steaming tea. The heat suffused through the porcelain to warm hands he hadn’t even realized were chilled. “This city isn’t a kind place for... well, anybody. Any human, anyhow. And times are changing, kid, especially for people like me. But despite all that, I’ve been here a long time. It’s... home.” He gave a gruff chuckle, “And I wouldn’t know what to do with myself anywhere else. Can you imagine me in Istan? Striberg? I’d end up in irons faster’n your friends here turned tail.” He grimaced bringing them up so soon, but pushed onward. “Yeah, you could leave. I get that Balefire isn’t for everyone. But your friends found you here, of all places. Here, where people get lost without even trying.” The phrase turned sharp, gouging memories Irena’s presence couldn’t help but spill. “Won’t they find you somewhere else too?” Ioann eyed her carefully, but her gaze was elsewhere. Her mannerisms were guarded, mournful even. Too much life lived in too short a time. It was a feeling he identified with, even taking his middling years into account. He felt suddenly tired, every joint issuing a sudden creaking, obstinate reminder that he’d outlived his life expectancy in the City of Lanterns. “Or you could...” He took a short sip, muttering a curse as the tea burned his tongue. “...stay. At least for a while. Help me out. Fetch things for me, but, you know,” he gave a wink, “actually bring them back? Seriously though. I could use the muscle. And I have enough safehouses that you could have your pick.” Confession Edited by Ioann, Fri Jan 26, 2018 2:02 am.
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| Irena | Fri Jan 26, 2018 5:04 am Post #24 |
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Swiveling away from the window, Irena peeled off her gritty, shark skin gloves to warm the offered cup of tea between her bare hands. Waiting for it to cool, she pondered Ioann's offer. "Ah yes. All this muscle I provide. Aren't you afraid of your street cred if it gets out that you have a teenage girl doing your dirty work for you?" Raising the cup to her lips, she tried and failed to hide her grin, the smile transforming her face into something far more youthful. "And I've been in Istan. And Striberg. Most places, really. You'd be surprised how well you can adapt. But Balefire does have a way of keeping people here, I'll give you that." "You want me...to stay? Not, like, here-" She punctuated the word with a jerk of her head, indicating the small front room of his shop. "But, you have a place for me?" The girl stared down into the steaming drink, watching the tea leaves swirl. "Wherever it is, it's probably leagues better than where I'm staying now. So I accept, obviously." Irena had never really been one for tea, she'd never had it on the island and wasn't able to afford it once she left, but she still took a sip out of politeness. "As for the errands...I can actually finish this one, assuming its still where I left it. I'll admit I didn't hide it in the best spot, but I was a little preoccupied at the moment, if you'll forgive me. If its gone, well..." Giving a halfhearted shrug, she continued. "I'm sure there are other things I could acquire." Quietly setting the mug on the table behind her, mostly untouched, Irena began to fiddle with the scarf draped over her bag. "I need to go see a...friend, and she can help me take care of something." Three somethings, to be exact. "But then I'll be back, paper in tow if we're lucky." Making her way to the exit, she pulled her gloves back on and flexed the fingers til they formed a tighter fit. "You don't need to wait up, it is the middle of the night. Work has to stop sometime." Right before it shut, Irena popped her head back through the door. "Sorry about your desk!" The girl chirped, before pulling it closed after her with a forceful slam. "You should lock that!", was the last muffled response before she set out once again. Skills Used
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| Ioann | Sat Jan 27, 2018 2:53 pm Post #25 |
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“Balefire never sleeps, kid, and neither does my current employer. Sometimes I keep the high time, others the low, but today I keep whatever time’ll get the work done.” And then, “My... desk?” After she left, Ioann secured the arcanomechanical locks and placed his ruined hand on the door, bowing his head. All of the bravado and underlying paternal impulses spilled out of him in an instant and he was back in that gray-washed hallway, with that terrible creature... No. No, he had work to do. Despite his rescue at the hands of the Stranger, he bore no illusions regarding the creature’s true demeanor. Ioann steeled himself with another quick sip of tea, then turned back toward his study. It was only a few steps away. Focusing on the delicate work might distract his concentration enough to purge the unwanted terrors, at least temporarily. He found the room a mess. His chair, upended, as if it had fallen from the desktop, and whatever papers and parchments had lain there, crinkled near to ruin. A crude circle was outlined in... chalk? on the ceiling above. Ioann sighed, realizing the answer to his earlier question. “Ah... my desk.” He smoothed out what he could and then turned to his chemistrie. The egg sat sullenly uncracked next to the pestle. He struck it once, then pulled it apart singlehandedly, watching the yellow yolk spill into the mortar alongside varnish and lampblack. The bold color brought an involuntary shiver to the surface that manifested with a tremor he could not will away. But he pushed through it and began to mix, finding therapeutic relief in blending away the yolk’s color. When it was done, he poured the newly mixed ink into its well, righted his chair, and sat with a heavy sigh. For what else was there to do but struggle forward? What else but to set pen to page and hope? Ioann pulled out the last sheet of parchment, plucked up the remaining nub of pen, and set to work. FIN Ah crap... Edited by Ioann, Sat Feb 3, 2018 2:25 pm.
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8:38 AM Jul 11

