Morax was absorbed in thought as he walked. Little tinges of pain from Daq's strained ankle were still registering despite the effect of the analgesic he'd applied, but he ignored them. Even Daq could have agreed that it would be best to get the job done quickly and worry about getting patched up later. Could have was the operative term, though. If Daq had had some sort of opinion about the matter, his presence felt so far from the conscious parts of their mind that Morax wouldn't have been able to process it. Whatever it was that Pagusel had done, it had upset him pretty badly. From what Morax could tell, he was sulking in the pleasant little prison of knowledge and memory that had been designed for him in the depths of their shared subconscious--the place where the mingling of their minds was indiscriminate and inscrutable.
But all of these considerations were little more than side processes. The main machinery of his mind was engaged with hammering out the problems with the break-in. The possibility of the involvement of Marn's authorities was disconcerting at best--terrifying at worst. Morax was acquainted with how they operated: extreme measures taken against things they deemed to be actual threats, designed to keep the lesser criminals in line, or at least restrained to their small-time activities. A proposed assault on a battlemage's private compound would certainly register on their list of actual threats, especially if they managed to recognize him as the focus of their earlier investigations that had taken place at his labs.
More importantly, though, without the assistance of a diversionary explosion at the front gates, the guards would be engaged on all sides of the perimeter. Therefore, his plan to have Pagusel slip in in whatever form she could assume would now be entirely dependent on the type of forms she could shift into, instead of just the size, which, based upon her earlier disappearances, he had assumed was very small. A cat, a dog or, god forbid, some kind of primate, would be far too conspicuous, while something like a snake or a bird would do. Without concern for her inclinations toward privacy, he turned to ask her directly about this form, so that he could continue formulating. He slowed to do this, but upon turning to look behind him, he realized that she had gone.
A legion thoughts arose in his head, buzzing excitedly like thousands of startled flies alighting from a corpse. Did she fall behind? Had she betrayed him as well? Or were the authorities already upon them? Instinctively, he drew his knife. As his primal brain began to take over, his gait changed. The muscles in his back that he'd been stretching earlier loosened up, and he bent forward dramatically, moving forward with a bestial, loping motion.
He cast his head from side to side with each bound, navigating mostly by smell and sound, forsaking sight. Pagusel's scent, he knew, would be difficult to pick up, despite the strange odors of chemicals that she was bathed in. Her gentle, restful movements produced an accumulation of scent that was nothing in comparison to the almost fulminating stench of the malnourished, stressed Marnians. He registered the smell of the trash heap behind on his left, the smell of "fresh" laundry hanging above him, even the smell of the wet earth beneath his feet, but he could not detect the presence of any persons in the alley, which is why, as he came to its end, he was startled to notice, out of the corner of his eye, a figure standing before him.
His distracted conscious mind was not able to process as quickly as the feral, subconscious parts of it. Without pausing for consideration, he pounced, knife extended, sharp teeth bared, hissing madly. Mid-flight, though, an unexpected sensation overcame him. It was Daq. His thoughts were clear, collected, and he'd realized that the person before him was Pagusel. As he was shunted back away from the controls of Daq's body, Morax felt his muscles crumpling and even the final thud as he hit the stones just at the feet of the figure and skidded into her legs. The one forceful thought that had filled his mind as Daq took control lingered powerfully at what felt like the tip of his tongue. He imagined he might have even been forced to say it aloud--'Stop'--before control had been wrested away from him entirely.
Play Your Part
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Daq Bekkar
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- Name: Daq Bekkar
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Re: Play Your Part
Pagusel started at the sound of Morax's hiss. Her hand quickly rose to clutch at her clavicle; she found herself momentarily surprised to see her own body in such a refined sort of gesture. She wouldn't have hissed back, by any means, but she didn't think she should have been visibly shaken. Her hand dropped back inside her cloak and she took a step back to dislodge herself from the body at her feet.
When she stared down at Daq's crumpled figure, her expression was recomposed to its characteristic flatness. She spotted the knife only after she heard its clatter against the ground. A shadow of mild terror flickered over her eyes like a mere passing cloud. The emotion didn't reach her mouth.
Pagusel glanced back over her shoulder upon realizing the noise they had just created. Nobody seemed disturbed, or around at all to hear it. She allowed a few seconds to pass in the alley, for the silence following the echo to settle. It was time, then, to do something reasonable.
She knelt. One hand, she placed gently over the knuckles of his knife-hand before making any other move. She extended her free hand to touch Daq's forehead with her fingertips. Slowly, Pagusel rotated her palm skyward, to brush up with her fingers the shock of hair over his forehead. She squinted quizzically at him. Then, her hand turned back on the same axis, and she extended her thumb to pull upward on the skin beneath his eyebrow and force open one eye. As she did this, the rest of her recoiled ever so slightly, but kept her ground by pressing more firmly onto the hand with the knife.
It seemed the reasonable thing to do, all things considered.
When she stared down at Daq's crumpled figure, her expression was recomposed to its characteristic flatness. She spotted the knife only after she heard its clatter against the ground. A shadow of mild terror flickered over her eyes like a mere passing cloud. The emotion didn't reach her mouth.
Pagusel glanced back over her shoulder upon realizing the noise they had just created. Nobody seemed disturbed, or around at all to hear it. She allowed a few seconds to pass in the alley, for the silence following the echo to settle. It was time, then, to do something reasonable.
She knelt. One hand, she placed gently over the knuckles of his knife-hand before making any other move. She extended her free hand to touch Daq's forehead with her fingertips. Slowly, Pagusel rotated her palm skyward, to brush up with her fingers the shock of hair over his forehead. She squinted quizzically at him. Then, her hand turned back on the same axis, and she extended her thumb to pull upward on the skin beneath his eyebrow and force open one eye. As she did this, the rest of her recoiled ever so slightly, but kept her ground by pressing more firmly onto the hand with the knife.
It seemed the reasonable thing to do, all things considered.
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Daq Bekkar
- Citizen
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- Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2007 8:49 pm
- Name: Daq Bekkar
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Re: Play Your Part
His ankle, back, and side were all throbbing in protest to one degree or another. Clenching his eyes shut against the pain, Daq was feeling perfectly content about letting Morax take control again now that the danger was averted. That was, until he felt Pagusel's fingers brushing across his face. Her touch felt soft, tentative, and above all, graceful. He almost smiled. As sour as he was at her, Daq was both glad that he had intervened in time to prevent her coming to harm and titillated at the sensation of her fingers running through his hair.
He was in the middle of imagining for a brief moment that he was lying in some comfortable bed instead of on the grimy cobblestones of a stinking back-alley when Pagusel pried one of his eyes open and he realized that the hair brush was less of an intimate gesture of concern and more of a practical movement to view one of his eyes unobstructed. Every hint of a spark he'd been imagining, every bit of magic, died at that instant.
With his free hand, he swatted at the fingers holding his eye open. "Get off me," he said peevishly. He twitched his nose and huffed in annoyance.
"I don't know what you were thinking," he said coldly, carefully directing his eyes so that no part of her was even in his field of vision. "After me warning you, I thought you'd have been smart enough to know not to startle him like that. Or perhaps you aren't as quick as I thought. Whatever the case, I'm not gonna hurt you, so get off."
Impatiently, he started to struggle to get to his feet. He wanted to get up. The stones in the spot where he'd landed reeked of piss. He conjectured that someone had emptied a chamber pot there, though he couldn't be sure. Oftentimes, the city of Marn just stank of its own accord.
He was in the middle of imagining for a brief moment that he was lying in some comfortable bed instead of on the grimy cobblestones of a stinking back-alley when Pagusel pried one of his eyes open and he realized that the hair brush was less of an intimate gesture of concern and more of a practical movement to view one of his eyes unobstructed. Every hint of a spark he'd been imagining, every bit of magic, died at that instant.
With his free hand, he swatted at the fingers holding his eye open. "Get off me," he said peevishly. He twitched his nose and huffed in annoyance.
"I don't know what you were thinking," he said coldly, carefully directing his eyes so that no part of her was even in his field of vision. "After me warning you, I thought you'd have been smart enough to know not to startle him like that. Or perhaps you aren't as quick as I thought. Whatever the case, I'm not gonna hurt you, so get off."
Impatiently, he started to struggle to get to his feet. He wanted to get up. The stones in the spot where he'd landed reeked of piss. He conjectured that someone had emptied a chamber pot there, though he couldn't be sure. Oftentimes, the city of Marn just stank of its own accord.
...
Re: Play Your Part
Pagusel flicked her wrist back delicately when her hand was swatted at. Far from getting to her feet and allowing him the space he demanded, she settled into her crouch somewhat. At first she had felt concern when his closed-eyed expression had looked so dreamy, so moony--as if he were suffering some sort of hallucination of a dream. Then, he turned sour so quickly, and since a concussion didn't seem at all a likely explanation, Pagusel reasoned it could only be nerves.
"Now," she said, with a pointed look at his knife and her hand over it, "settle down." It might be the most aggravating thing she could have said under the circumstances. But, she showed no overt sign of wanting to aggravate. She showed awareness that she was speaking with Daq, and not Morax.
" . . .I'm not gonna hurt you, so get off." He spoke with a little hint of the informal patois--conflating the words "going" and "to" that way. The bow at the apex of Pagusel's upper lip puckered ever so slightly. He had addressed her so formally before. Nerves, again? She slid her hand off of his to allow him to rise, if he would.
"I have to repeat what I said before: I'm entirely capable of defending myself." It sounded like her response to his accusations of taking unwise action. As a woman of few words, she didn't go on to point out that she had accomplished what she had intended, after all. That much was to be taken either tacitly or not at all.
"I suggest you settle down," she repeated as she rose to her feet. "It won't do any good to lose control . . . I suppose it might do a great deal of good to keep control of yourself."
"Now," she said, with a pointed look at his knife and her hand over it, "settle down." It might be the most aggravating thing she could have said under the circumstances. But, she showed no overt sign of wanting to aggravate. She showed awareness that she was speaking with Daq, and not Morax.
" . . .I'm not gonna hurt you, so get off." He spoke with a little hint of the informal patois--conflating the words "going" and "to" that way. The bow at the apex of Pagusel's upper lip puckered ever so slightly. He had addressed her so formally before. Nerves, again? She slid her hand off of his to allow him to rise, if he would.
"I have to repeat what I said before: I'm entirely capable of defending myself." It sounded like her response to his accusations of taking unwise action. As a woman of few words, she didn't go on to point out that she had accomplished what she had intended, after all. That much was to be taken either tacitly or not at all.
"I suggest you settle down," she repeated as she rose to her feet. "It won't do any good to lose control . . . I suppose it might do a great deal of good to keep control of yourself."
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Daq Bekkar
- Citizen
- Posts: 369
- Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2007 8:49 pm
- Name: Daq Bekkar
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Re: Play Your Part
Pagusel's every move frustrated him, but he felt especially annoyed when she redoubled her attempts to pin him and told him to settle down--he was settled, and for all he knew, he'd saved her life. He'd expected gratitude at least.
When Pagusel finally deigned him "settled" enough to get off, Daq rose with a sneer and made an attempt at wiping the mud and grit off of his coat, but he only succeeded in smearing it around more. He limped forward a few paces, testing out what parts of him were hurting and how much. He wasn't sure what had ultimately caused him all the pain, Morax's actions while he was in control or simply the fall from the lunge he'd prevented.
As he wiped, he listened to her continued lecturing. Daq was extremely unsure about Pagusel's ability to defender herself, despite her repeated reminders. As a scientist, he was inclined to cast doubt on such improbabilities as a slight, willowy woman being able to fend off an enraged, possessed man--especially one who, by the look of things, was more than a stone heavier than she.
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said under his breath, mostly to himself, but strangely also in the hope that Morax was listening in. Morax, normally devoid of most strong emotions, had been getting wilder and wilder in her presence, a testament to the deep annoyance he was feeling around her. As a result of this common ground, Daq had found himself sympathizing more with Morax lately, who instilled in him now the sorts of feelings he assumed one might have toward a deranged older brother or even an ailing father instead of an unwanted guest or a captor. For these reasons, among others, he took her next comment, "It won't do any good to lose control . . . I suppose it might do a great deal of good to keep control of yourself," particularly badly.
Daq spat on the ground as he heard it. He imagined it could be seen either as an indication of disdain or as the simple motion of clearing muck from his mouth. He decided he would leave Pagusel free to interpret it as she wished.
Morax, Daq reasoned, had always taken care of him in his own way, just as he had been guiding him up until the lunge. Of course, with Morax out of the picture momentarily, there was no guidance to be had, and Daq found himself at a loss for where to go next. The next thing he did was raise his arms and let them fall back down to his sides with a peevish flop.
"Sure thing, Pag," he said snidely. "Lead the way."
When Pagusel finally deigned him "settled" enough to get off, Daq rose with a sneer and made an attempt at wiping the mud and grit off of his coat, but he only succeeded in smearing it around more. He limped forward a few paces, testing out what parts of him were hurting and how much. He wasn't sure what had ultimately caused him all the pain, Morax's actions while he was in control or simply the fall from the lunge he'd prevented.
As he wiped, he listened to her continued lecturing. Daq was extremely unsure about Pagusel's ability to defender herself, despite her repeated reminders. As a scientist, he was inclined to cast doubt on such improbabilities as a slight, willowy woman being able to fend off an enraged, possessed man--especially one who, by the look of things, was more than a stone heavier than she.
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said under his breath, mostly to himself, but strangely also in the hope that Morax was listening in. Morax, normally devoid of most strong emotions, had been getting wilder and wilder in her presence, a testament to the deep annoyance he was feeling around her. As a result of this common ground, Daq had found himself sympathizing more with Morax lately, who instilled in him now the sorts of feelings he assumed one might have toward a deranged older brother or even an ailing father instead of an unwanted guest or a captor. For these reasons, among others, he took her next comment, "It won't do any good to lose control . . . I suppose it might do a great deal of good to keep control of yourself," particularly badly.
Daq spat on the ground as he heard it. He imagined it could be seen either as an indication of disdain or as the simple motion of clearing muck from his mouth. He decided he would leave Pagusel free to interpret it as she wished.
Morax, Daq reasoned, had always taken care of him in his own way, just as he had been guiding him up until the lunge. Of course, with Morax out of the picture momentarily, there was no guidance to be had, and Daq found himself at a loss for where to go next. The next thing he did was raise his arms and let them fall back down to his sides with a peevish flop.
"Sure thing, Pag," he said snidely. "Lead the way."
...
Re: Play Your Part
Some strange agitation pulsed conspicuously from Pagusel's ribcage to her throat. The sensation, however, wasn't as unpleasant as those her neuroses usually produced. When Daq spit, her heartbeat sounded in her ears. Her cheeks may have flushed. This feeling was something like anticipation, frustration, or fear--it was so hard to place these things, and Pagusel wasn't accustomed of late to experiencing them.
Pagusel stared at Daq, affronted by the oddness of his utterance. The whites of her eyes seemed to stand out against her dusty skin more than before. The nature of the unusual agitation she was feeling became clearer as she looked on the moody man before her.
She stepped forward towards him and spoke in a soft, somewhat gentle tone. "I don't know the way, Daq," she said. "I believe you know I don't know the way. And--" Pagusel cleared her throat as she tried to best word something patronizing, something she didn't care to have to put words to-- "I believe you addressed me rudely." She tipped her head and pressed her lips together. A lock of hair fell heavily past her shoulder.
Pagusel took a deep breath through her mouth and shivered. "I know you're not a rude man; we went over this at the club when we met." The corners of her lips tightened with the wearying effort of speaking surplus information, which shouldn't need to be shared. She pushed on, though, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled too, as she stared him in his face. "I suspect you are deliberately being unpleasant to me so that I will want you to disappear again, and you may give yourself permission to lose control.
"I will not repeat my stance on what it means to take an easy path when it comes to magic." Pagusel's eyes broke from Daq's face for a moment to glance to the side, but she didn't allow her head to turn fully to look behind, as her reflexes wanted.
She exhaled through flared nostrils and allowed her expression to relax enough that she might not seem so displeased.
Pagusel stared at Daq, affronted by the oddness of his utterance. The whites of her eyes seemed to stand out against her dusty skin more than before. The nature of the unusual agitation she was feeling became clearer as she looked on the moody man before her.
She stepped forward towards him and spoke in a soft, somewhat gentle tone. "I don't know the way, Daq," she said. "I believe you know I don't know the way. And--" Pagusel cleared her throat as she tried to best word something patronizing, something she didn't care to have to put words to-- "I believe you addressed me rudely." She tipped her head and pressed her lips together. A lock of hair fell heavily past her shoulder.
Pagusel took a deep breath through her mouth and shivered. "I know you're not a rude man; we went over this at the club when we met." The corners of her lips tightened with the wearying effort of speaking surplus information, which shouldn't need to be shared. She pushed on, though, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled too, as she stared him in his face. "I suspect you are deliberately being unpleasant to me so that I will want you to disappear again, and you may give yourself permission to lose control.
"I will not repeat my stance on what it means to take an easy path when it comes to magic." Pagusel's eyes broke from Daq's face for a moment to glance to the side, but she didn't allow her head to turn fully to look behind, as her reflexes wanted.
She exhaled through flared nostrils and allowed her expression to relax enough that she might not seem so displeased.
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Daq Bekkar
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- Posts: 369
- Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2007 8:49 pm
- Name: Daq Bekkar
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Re: Play Your Part
Something clicked in Daq when Pagusel reproached him. As she spoke, Daq could see the tired expression on her face, a certain fragility, a world-weary look to her that he'd initially been attracted to but that he'd since forgotten altogether, somewhere between her off-putting coolness and her constant assertions of her ability to take care of herself. He turned away from her and looked at the ground.
He wasn't a rude man, and he'd convinced himself he cared about the woman he'd just insulted. Whether that was the truth anymore or only the lingering product of intense conviction, he wasn't sure, but the resultant emotions were the same.
"What I want is for you to want to disappear... To just get out of here. You don't owe him anything, and you certainly don't owe me. Of course, I think you know that second part already, or, at least, you're acting like it," he said to the stones. He began walking to the end of the alley, furrowing his brow and concentrating on not listening to his ugly, used-up voice bouncing back up at him. It made his ears hurt, he felt.
"I don't need an excuse to disappear," he said quietly. "Not anymore. I'm transparent already."
With an almost absentmindedly bumbling kind of motion, his left hand reached into his coat and pulled out a vial. He bent forward, skimmed the vial across the grimy surface of a puddle, and continued walking slowly, saying nothing, but swirling the greenish-brown contents until they turned a gentle, but insistent red. He brought the glass to his lips and tipped it back.
As the pains in his leg, ankle and shoulder started to dull, Daq became certain that he could feel a familiar presence welling up behind his eyes.
"Anyway," he said. "Come on. I'm starting to remember the way."
He wasn't a rude man, and he'd convinced himself he cared about the woman he'd just insulted. Whether that was the truth anymore or only the lingering product of intense conviction, he wasn't sure, but the resultant emotions were the same.
"What I want is for you to want to disappear... To just get out of here. You don't owe him anything, and you certainly don't owe me. Of course, I think you know that second part already, or, at least, you're acting like it," he said to the stones. He began walking to the end of the alley, furrowing his brow and concentrating on not listening to his ugly, used-up voice bouncing back up at him. It made his ears hurt, he felt.
"I don't need an excuse to disappear," he said quietly. "Not anymore. I'm transparent already."
With an almost absentmindedly bumbling kind of motion, his left hand reached into his coat and pulled out a vial. He bent forward, skimmed the vial across the grimy surface of a puddle, and continued walking slowly, saying nothing, but swirling the greenish-brown contents until they turned a gentle, but insistent red. He brought the glass to his lips and tipped it back.
As the pains in his leg, ankle and shoulder started to dull, Daq became certain that he could feel a familiar presence welling up behind his eyes.
"Anyway," he said. "Come on. I'm starting to remember the way."
...
Re: Play Your Part
That Daq was speaking so dramatically was at least indication that he was feeling some sort of passion, even if melancholy was the drug of choice. He seemed so exaggerated in his moroseness, with that scowl on his face as he stared at the ground, that Pagusel couldn't help but frown and furrow her brow in sympathetic reflex. The gesture on her part surprised her and startled her to follow after him.
"I don't owe either of you--" for she was thoroughly convinced she was dealing with two separate beings here, a case of possession--"anything. The transaction is pending." She caught up beside Daq and stared forward at the route he claimed to somewhat remember before she turned to look at his face.
"The--key," she said, her tone changing to reflect a change of subject, "is to relax but not become complacent." As they walked, her usually flat tone pitched with her heavier breathing. The resulting prosody was not quite natural, but it was something. This odd agitation she was experiencing forced effort into her speech.
"Understand?" Her speech was truncated, and thus even terser than usual. After a few more steps, she glanced down at the empty, red-stained vial in his hand. "I--do hope you understand. I . . . want you to."
Pagusel shivered in her steps; she was poorly attired for the chilly morning. "We could--really discuss this if you like. That is . . ." She stopped in mid-sentence so as to arrange her words. She clearly didn't like going back on herself awkwardly. "Ehem--I'm not entirely without drugs of my own, and I would invite you to have some . . . and relax . . . and avoid those feelings. Of transparency."
"I don't owe either of you--" for she was thoroughly convinced she was dealing with two separate beings here, a case of possession--"anything. The transaction is pending." She caught up beside Daq and stared forward at the route he claimed to somewhat remember before she turned to look at his face.
"The--key," she said, her tone changing to reflect a change of subject, "is to relax but not become complacent." As they walked, her usually flat tone pitched with her heavier breathing. The resulting prosody was not quite natural, but it was something. This odd agitation she was experiencing forced effort into her speech.
"Understand?" Her speech was truncated, and thus even terser than usual. After a few more steps, she glanced down at the empty, red-stained vial in his hand. "I--do hope you understand. I . . . want you to."
Pagusel shivered in her steps; she was poorly attired for the chilly morning. "We could--really discuss this if you like. That is . . ." She stopped in mid-sentence so as to arrange her words. She clearly didn't like going back on herself awkwardly. "Ehem--I'm not entirely without drugs of my own, and I would invite you to have some . . . and relax . . . and avoid those feelings. Of transparency."
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Daq Bekkar
- Citizen
- Posts: 369
- Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2007 8:49 pm
- Name: Daq Bekkar
- Race: Humanoid Construct
Re: Play Your Part
Daq moved in a state of semi-consciousness, following Morax's abrupt directions--hang a left, go straight, past this awning and then a right--with a sort of muted half-attention. Even less of his attention was focused on Pagusel, who was now walking beside him. He could tell that she was breathing heavily, agitated, but he really didn't care. More and more, he was content to be absorbed inside of himself. He wondered if this was the way it had been with all of Morax's previous hosts, if they'd all just gotten fed up with the way things were going, burdened as they were, and given up. Morax, evidently also not paying attention to Pagusel, interjected into his line of thought by contradicting him.
It wasn't this way with them at all. You've given me a lot more trouble than they have. In fact--
"Yes," Daq said aloud, interrupting. "We've established that already." Morax instructed him to turn before continuing.
What I mean is, they weren't like you. Some seemed to be sad, but none were as agitated. It was a mellow kind of sadness, a relaxed kind. It made it easier on them. Perhaps, Daq, you should relax. Make it easy on yourself.
"No," Daq said, turning now into an alley upon Morax's command. "I do not want to relax. There's no need to make it any easier on myself. Things have been difficult for so long, I've almost gotten used to it."
Daq, if this is about the woman, I've promised you I'd take care of her--to an extent. I really am going to great lengths here. I don't want you to be so unhappy. The others, they weren't like this. They eased into it after awhile, many of them even thanked me later.. just before the end. What is your experience but subjectivity, anyway? If you were to live inside yourself, like you were doing before, you could be much happier. Things wouldn't have to be so difficult. I could assist you in it all.
As if just remembering, his left hand darted back into his breast pocket and secreted the red-tinged glass vial away.
You see, I don't know if you can quite grasp this, but I don't particularly care for it when you are unhappy. I can't feel it exactly like you do, but there is.. discomfort.. that I feel when you are at the surface and distressed as you are now. So you see, my motivations here--my intents--they are aligned with your best interest. Do you understant what I am saying?
"I understand," Daq said.
Perhaps some of your drugs? Just to take the edge off? You could ask Pagusel for your case.. The Zilkanum is in there. You used to like that. Quite a bit as I remember. I was very comfortable during those times.
"No," Daq said. "Now's not the time for drugs. There's too much at stake. We both need to stay sharp."
I suppose you're right. It'll be just around the corner, some two hundred yards off to the left. Incidentally, the shift will be changing in just seven minutes if they stick to the schedule I observed.
"I think we should hurry," Daq said. "If we're to get there in the next seven minutes."
Following Morax's directions, he quickly headed toward the compound's rear wall, visible only as a dark, imposing smudge in the early morning's fog. He wasn't sure what Morax had in mind, but he felt his left hand sneaking back into his breast pocket and folding its fingers around the cold vial of explosive. Surely, though, such a small amount wasn't enough to blow through the wall, or whatever it was he had been proposing to the gnome. His hand withdrew itself carefully from his coat and held the vial aloft, gently gesturing for Pagusel to stop and wait in the shadows.
I need to know what she turns into. Ask her now. Our plans will depend on it.
"Pagusel," Daq said. "Tell me. What form is it that you assume? I need to know before I can decide what to do."
It wasn't this way with them at all. You've given me a lot more trouble than they have. In fact--
"Yes," Daq said aloud, interrupting. "We've established that already." Morax instructed him to turn before continuing.
What I mean is, they weren't like you. Some seemed to be sad, but none were as agitated. It was a mellow kind of sadness, a relaxed kind. It made it easier on them. Perhaps, Daq, you should relax. Make it easy on yourself.
"No," Daq said, turning now into an alley upon Morax's command. "I do not want to relax. There's no need to make it any easier on myself. Things have been difficult for so long, I've almost gotten used to it."
Daq, if this is about the woman, I've promised you I'd take care of her--to an extent. I really am going to great lengths here. I don't want you to be so unhappy. The others, they weren't like this. They eased into it after awhile, many of them even thanked me later.. just before the end. What is your experience but subjectivity, anyway? If you were to live inside yourself, like you were doing before, you could be much happier. Things wouldn't have to be so difficult. I could assist you in it all.
As if just remembering, his left hand darted back into his breast pocket and secreted the red-tinged glass vial away.
You see, I don't know if you can quite grasp this, but I don't particularly care for it when you are unhappy. I can't feel it exactly like you do, but there is.. discomfort.. that I feel when you are at the surface and distressed as you are now. So you see, my motivations here--my intents--they are aligned with your best interest. Do you understant what I am saying?
"I understand," Daq said.
Perhaps some of your drugs? Just to take the edge off? You could ask Pagusel for your case.. The Zilkanum is in there. You used to like that. Quite a bit as I remember. I was very comfortable during those times.
"No," Daq said. "Now's not the time for drugs. There's too much at stake. We both need to stay sharp."
I suppose you're right. It'll be just around the corner, some two hundred yards off to the left. Incidentally, the shift will be changing in just seven minutes if they stick to the schedule I observed.
"I think we should hurry," Daq said. "If we're to get there in the next seven minutes."
Following Morax's directions, he quickly headed toward the compound's rear wall, visible only as a dark, imposing smudge in the early morning's fog. He wasn't sure what Morax had in mind, but he felt his left hand sneaking back into his breast pocket and folding its fingers around the cold vial of explosive. Surely, though, such a small amount wasn't enough to blow through the wall, or whatever it was he had been proposing to the gnome. His hand withdrew itself carefully from his coat and held the vial aloft, gently gesturing for Pagusel to stop and wait in the shadows.
I need to know what she turns into. Ask her now. Our plans will depend on it.
"Pagusel," Daq said. "Tell me. What form is it that you assume? I need to know before I can decide what to do."
...
Re: Play Your Part
Pagusel followed closely enough behind Daq to keep up conversation with him. As a result, her steps and turns were awkwardly hasty, as he was navigating as if on a series of last-minute whims. His responses were interesting, though, and required all of her attention.
She had been out of conversational habit for too long, and couldn't pick up exactly what was strange about his cadence, but something was off. Were his words timed awkwardly? He made sense, certainly, but his manner wasn't right--Pagusel had to steer her focus away from the distracting nature of his speech and listen to the actual contents.
Pagusel found herself shaking her head to one side as she listened. He said he understood, but why did he contradict exactly what she was saying, immediately after she said it? She had asked him to join her later, but he responded as if her very suggestion had been to drop everything and lose focus. And he said he wasn't willing to make things easier on himself--hadn't she just told him she couldn't abide by easy solutions?
That was what sounded so odd about him--not only did the timing of his responses not quite match her comments, but the content was distracted. Pagusel's steps quickened as she realized she was being halfway ignored.
The wall of the compound suddenly loomed beside them. Pagusel chided herself with her chin turned down for her lack of attention to their surroundings. She was focused on other things.
She faced Daq straight-on, with her hands tucked under her cloak. Her elbows tented the cloak out on either side; she may have been standing akimbo by the looks of it. If he was looking right at her, she could hope he wouldn't ignore her. That feeling of having her words only half-attended, it was distantly familiar, and it reminded her what she was up against.
"Let's not waste time," she said quickly and with very little breath. "I will tell you what you want to know on the condition that you agree to meet with me later--let's agree to some time within two days--that I may help you experience what is it I'm talking about." Pagusel's face looked pinched with the effort of extending the invitation again. Really it was a blessing in disguise that Daq had shown no eagerness at her initial invitation, and has in fact refused it outright; any display of forwardness on his part could have made her very uncomfortable.
"A simple 'yes,' to which I intend to hold you, will do."
She had been out of conversational habit for too long, and couldn't pick up exactly what was strange about his cadence, but something was off. Were his words timed awkwardly? He made sense, certainly, but his manner wasn't right--Pagusel had to steer her focus away from the distracting nature of his speech and listen to the actual contents.
Pagusel found herself shaking her head to one side as she listened. He said he understood, but why did he contradict exactly what she was saying, immediately after she said it? She had asked him to join her later, but he responded as if her very suggestion had been to drop everything and lose focus. And he said he wasn't willing to make things easier on himself--hadn't she just told him she couldn't abide by easy solutions?
That was what sounded so odd about him--not only did the timing of his responses not quite match her comments, but the content was distracted. Pagusel's steps quickened as she realized she was being halfway ignored.
The wall of the compound suddenly loomed beside them. Pagusel chided herself with her chin turned down for her lack of attention to their surroundings. She was focused on other things.
She faced Daq straight-on, with her hands tucked under her cloak. Her elbows tented the cloak out on either side; she may have been standing akimbo by the looks of it. If he was looking right at her, she could hope he wouldn't ignore her. That feeling of having her words only half-attended, it was distantly familiar, and it reminded her what she was up against.
"Let's not waste time," she said quickly and with very little breath. "I will tell you what you want to know on the condition that you agree to meet with me later--let's agree to some time within two days--that I may help you experience what is it I'm talking about." Pagusel's face looked pinched with the effort of extending the invitation again. Really it was a blessing in disguise that Daq had shown no eagerness at her initial invitation, and has in fact refused it outright; any display of forwardness on his part could have made her very uncomfortable.
"A simple 'yes,' to which I intend to hold you, will do."
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Daq Bekkar
- Citizen
- Posts: 369
- Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2007 8:49 pm
- Name: Daq Bekkar
- Race: Humanoid Construct
Re: Play Your Part
Taken aback by Pagusel's abrupt directness, Daq was forced to pause. Clearly, she would not allow herself to remain unconsidered, even if being ignored was in her best interest. She had to offer some resistance, perhaps because of some strange loyalty she felt--a contractual loyalty, certainly not an interpersonal one. But loyalty to whom? To him? To the man she'd first encountered?
She evidently did not understand the change that had taken place in him. The split was irrevocable; at the gates of the city, he'd undone something he'd only been able to achieve through luck and circumstance. And in the mud in front of the gnome's lab, she'd undone something, as well. Maybe something that also had only been achieved by luck and circumstance. How much of his attraction had been based on the drugs, the music, and the exotic crowd?
At any rate, he was not the same, so the entire field had changed. Or was that exactly what she had noticed? She'd made a contract with Bekkar, alchemist extraordinaire, not the resigned and overcome Bekkar before her. To some degree, he'd held up his end--he'd given her drugs, after all. Was she only trying to hold up hers, despite his dismissals?
Four minutes remain. Consider this later. If you wish to meet with her, you may. Otherwise, who cares about this business of contract and obligation anyway?
"Yes," Daq answered finally, unsure of whether his answer was to be fact or falsehood.
The only difference between truth and lie is in the becoming, Morax said, perhaps attempting to reassure him.
She evidently did not understand the change that had taken place in him. The split was irrevocable; at the gates of the city, he'd undone something he'd only been able to achieve through luck and circumstance. And in the mud in front of the gnome's lab, she'd undone something, as well. Maybe something that also had only been achieved by luck and circumstance. How much of his attraction had been based on the drugs, the music, and the exotic crowd?
At any rate, he was not the same, so the entire field had changed. Or was that exactly what she had noticed? She'd made a contract with Bekkar, alchemist extraordinaire, not the resigned and overcome Bekkar before her. To some degree, he'd held up his end--he'd given her drugs, after all. Was she only trying to hold up hers, despite his dismissals?
Four minutes remain. Consider this later. If you wish to meet with her, you may. Otherwise, who cares about this business of contract and obligation anyway?
"Yes," Daq answered finally, unsure of whether his answer was to be fact or falsehood.
The only difference between truth and lie is in the becoming, Morax said, perhaps attempting to reassure him.
Re: Play Your Part
Pagusel received Daq's reply with a brief, straight-faced pause, followed by a roll of her gaze over the wall by which they stood. She seemed to be charting a set of plans of her own, against which to cross-reference his. There was plenty about the individual nature of shifters that couldn't be so easily explained; he'd have to understand if she didn't abide by his every instruction. An unexpected recollection, a stiff nostalgia, accompanied this thought, and it brought a stony expression to Pagusel's face and leveled her gaze back to Daq.
"I'll want to rest after this. If you agree, you'll come to the east corner of the scrapyard tomorrow night. Before midnight. Not tonight, in case there's a lookout in the aftermath of . . . this." Pagusel finished her last word with a firm press of her lips to manually shut off that train of thought. She was going on more than she liked.
She straightened her already erect posture and with the back of her hand, arranged the fall of her hair to be more symmetrical across the yoke of her shoulders. She looked upward and spoke without eye contact. "I'll be a cockroach," she said in a low tone. Her eyes dropped back down to partially meet his gaze. "The size of my thumb, approximately." She held up a stiffly extended thumb with the pad exposed towards Daq. "I won't posses higher reasoning while I am not human, and I require somewhat less than one second of time to change either way."
She stared at him for a tense moment and seemed about to add something, but instead flared her nostrils and looked away, down the length of the wall.
"I'll want to rest after this. If you agree, you'll come to the east corner of the scrapyard tomorrow night. Before midnight. Not tonight, in case there's a lookout in the aftermath of . . . this." Pagusel finished her last word with a firm press of her lips to manually shut off that train of thought. She was going on more than she liked.
She straightened her already erect posture and with the back of her hand, arranged the fall of her hair to be more symmetrical across the yoke of her shoulders. She looked upward and spoke without eye contact. "I'll be a cockroach," she said in a low tone. Her eyes dropped back down to partially meet his gaze. "The size of my thumb, approximately." She held up a stiffly extended thumb with the pad exposed towards Daq. "I won't posses higher reasoning while I am not human, and I require somewhat less than one second of time to change either way."
She stared at him for a tense moment and seemed about to add something, but instead flared her nostrils and looked away, down the length of the wall.
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Daq Bekkar
- Citizen
- Posts: 369
- Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2007 8:49 pm
- Name: Daq Bekkar
- Race: Humanoid Construct
Re: Play Your Part
Pagusel's instructions for him were less than adequate. Though he could assume that Pagusel meant the largish scrapyard in the industrial district, she could have also meant any one of the several smaller ones all across the city--most prominently, the one in the business district that he'd occasionally gotten salvage from. And a meeting time at "night" but "before midnight" encompassed a large span of possible time. If anything, it sounded like she wanted him to have an excuse for not showing up, provided their paths should even cross again after this operation.
Don't say anything foolish, Morax said. Just agree with her.
"Alright, Pagusel," Daq said, despite his dissatisfaction.
Now pass on the details of my plan to her. The first step will be...
Daq cleared his throat. "The first step will be a distraction, furnished by some explosives, which will be detonated by myself at the front right corner of the compound. We are currently at the back left corner. Some twelve meters to the right is a small deliveries entrance--a wooden door, not entirely flush with the falls and floor--which you would be able to slip through in your alternate form."
Without pausing, he continued on. Morax had rehearsed the plan, even with its newer revisions, several times already, and he was passing on instructions to Daq clearly and succinctly.
"Normally there is a guard posted there, but if timed correctly, the entire security force should be diverted by my distraction. If everything is understood on your part, I will commence with the plan. Please wait three minutes after the explosion before heading toward the door. After you open it, I will meet you there to head for the reagent inside the main building."
Daq had fallen into a rut, simply reiterating what Morax was feeding to him, so that he only noticed after saying it that his last comment seemed a bit strange and unlike him.
"Also be advised that there is a necromancer on the premises. Magic will be afoot. I do not wish for you to be startled and succumb to the heebie-jeebies at the wrong moment."
Don't say anything foolish, Morax said. Just agree with her.
"Alright, Pagusel," Daq said, despite his dissatisfaction.
Now pass on the details of my plan to her. The first step will be...
Daq cleared his throat. "The first step will be a distraction, furnished by some explosives, which will be detonated by myself at the front right corner of the compound. We are currently at the back left corner. Some twelve meters to the right is a small deliveries entrance--a wooden door, not entirely flush with the falls and floor--which you would be able to slip through in your alternate form."
Without pausing, he continued on. Morax had rehearsed the plan, even with its newer revisions, several times already, and he was passing on instructions to Daq clearly and succinctly.
"Normally there is a guard posted there, but if timed correctly, the entire security force should be diverted by my distraction. If everything is understood on your part, I will commence with the plan. Please wait three minutes after the explosion before heading toward the door. After you open it, I will meet you there to head for the reagent inside the main building."
Daq had fallen into a rut, simply reiterating what Morax was feeding to him, so that he only noticed after saying it that his last comment seemed a bit strange and unlike him.
"Also be advised that there is a necromancer on the premises. Magic will be afoot. I do not wish for you to be startled and succumb to the heebie-jeebies at the wrong moment."
Re: Play Your Part
Pagusel's tense expression dried in the ambient air of Daq's agreement.
As he went on to describe the plan, Pagusel's features narrowed in concentration. Her gaze followed the positions he described and she mentally processed the locations associated with his relative markers of left, right, back, and front. She glanced over in the direction of the indicated door and gave an upward nod of her chin in agreement that she should fit in there.
There were variables to keep track of. At least Daq--or Morax--wasn't micromanaging her when it came to contingencies. There would be three minutes to meditate on those contingencies. Three minutes in which Pagusel could hope some internal entropy in Daq didn't result in a drastic change of plans.
"Be advised . . . necromancer . . ." A strange, unobtrusive bubble of feeling swelled behind Pagusel's breastbone. That thought she'd had earlier was reiterating itself, about this city perhaps not being as empty a purgatory as she'd believed. She didn't feel the nagging urge to revert to a cockroach just yet.
Then he said something that almost made her smile involuntarily. She stifled the threat of a smile, that it instead surfaced as a slight swell of muscle just below her cheekbones and a hint of pinkness: "Heebie-jeebies." She wouldn't allow that to evoke a memory; that would be to go too far back, to mess in memories she couldn't keep straight when sober. She wanted to keep her mind free.
"Go ahead," she said. Her voice was choked with the effort of keeping back that smile, and so she allowed the upward stretching of her lips to present itself for a moment so that she could tuck it away again. Perhaps she just looked eager to comply, rather than entirely crazy.
"If all goes well, I'll see you in . . . shortly over three minutes. If the plans go awry, I will see you later tonight."
As he went on to describe the plan, Pagusel's features narrowed in concentration. Her gaze followed the positions he described and she mentally processed the locations associated with his relative markers of left, right, back, and front. She glanced over in the direction of the indicated door and gave an upward nod of her chin in agreement that she should fit in there.
There were variables to keep track of. At least Daq--or Morax--wasn't micromanaging her when it came to contingencies. There would be three minutes to meditate on those contingencies. Three minutes in which Pagusel could hope some internal entropy in Daq didn't result in a drastic change of plans.
"Be advised . . . necromancer . . ." A strange, unobtrusive bubble of feeling swelled behind Pagusel's breastbone. That thought she'd had earlier was reiterating itself, about this city perhaps not being as empty a purgatory as she'd believed. She didn't feel the nagging urge to revert to a cockroach just yet.
Then he said something that almost made her smile involuntarily. She stifled the threat of a smile, that it instead surfaced as a slight swell of muscle just below her cheekbones and a hint of pinkness: "Heebie-jeebies." She wouldn't allow that to evoke a memory; that would be to go too far back, to mess in memories she couldn't keep straight when sober. She wanted to keep her mind free.
"Go ahead," she said. Her voice was choked with the effort of keeping back that smile, and so she allowed the upward stretching of her lips to present itself for a moment so that she could tuck it away again. Perhaps she just looked eager to comply, rather than entirely crazy.
"If all goes well, I'll see you in . . . shortly over three minutes. If the plans go awry, I will see you later tonight."
-
Daq Bekkar
- Citizen
- Posts: 369
- Joined: Wed Oct 17, 2007 8:49 pm
- Name: Daq Bekkar
- Race: Humanoid Construct
Re: Play Your Part
Daq nodded perfunctorily and allowed Morax to guide him away into a back alley.
Relax, Morax said. We can move faster, if you'll let me.
With an ambivalent sort of mental repositioning, Daq allowed himself to slip away. As he gave up the reins, he had a brief feeling, a second-guessing, like remembering something left at home upon arriving at a far-away destination. He started and almost regained control, but he was pushed back.
Calmly, he watched himself lope along at Morax's strange, primal pace. Whenever Morax glanced down, Daq could see phials uncorking and re-corking.
What was Morax planning? Daq wondered to himself, hoping that Morax would be too preoccupied to eavesdrop. Why the heist at all? What was he hoping to obtain?
Now that he finally gave it consideration, it struck Daq as odd that he had never questioned Morax about his motives behind gathering all of the reagents he had in the past months. Over the years, he supposed, the leash he'd kept Morax on had grown less and less tight. By the time they'd been driven out to Marn, it had become a normal practice for Daq to run errands just to quell the nagging sensation of Morax's agitated presence.
He was stirred out of these thoughts by a slowing in pace. In the still-dark, foggy morning, Morax's approach to the compound's front gates had an odd, dream-like quality. From his onlooker's perspective, the movement of his body was less evident, and the imposing walls seemed to materialize out of nothingness. Morax whispered something to himself--something Daq recognized as a way of keeping time people used in the north--and headed for the base of the wall at a run. Evidently, he had been right about the changing of shifts, as no one attempted to stop their approach.
Pressing himself against the wall, Morax slid along for awhile, gently placing small, corked phials at its base. Seven or eight phials later--Daq lost count--Morax darted away from the wall's base. Daq could hear a man shout something at him, but the damp air couldn't carry the sound well enough for the speech to reach him undistorted. He saw Morax's hand reach up into his hair, and then a tint fell over his vision. Daq braced himself. If Morax felt the need for his goggles...
With a swift motion, Morax turned and hurled a final phial at the wall's base. It shattered and a grimy, black smoke ascended for a few seconds from where it made contact. Suddenly, it exploded with a bright and deafeningly loud bang. Despite the goggles, Daq found himself disoriented from the flash. He could hear fingers being pressed into his ears, but the muffling did little to shield him from the violence of the subsequent chain of explosions.
As each successive vial triggered the next, the sound grew louder and louder, until Daq felt the sound reverberating in his chest more than he actually heard it. He was so startled by the last sound, that his exclamation of surprise--"Holy sh.."--actually managed to become partly vocalized before Morax could stifle it.
After his vision returned, Morax briefly surveyed the damage he'd done. Despite the unctuous smoke that rose in the aftermath of the reaction, he could see that most of the front wall had been obliterated and parts of the sides were cracked and beginning to crumble. The shouts of anxious guardsman rose from behind the cloud.
"Hm," he mused, before drawing back into the alley and beginning to lope toward where he hoped Pagusel would be waiting.
Relax, Morax said. We can move faster, if you'll let me.
With an ambivalent sort of mental repositioning, Daq allowed himself to slip away. As he gave up the reins, he had a brief feeling, a second-guessing, like remembering something left at home upon arriving at a far-away destination. He started and almost regained control, but he was pushed back.
Calmly, he watched himself lope along at Morax's strange, primal pace. Whenever Morax glanced down, Daq could see phials uncorking and re-corking.
What was Morax planning? Daq wondered to himself, hoping that Morax would be too preoccupied to eavesdrop. Why the heist at all? What was he hoping to obtain?
Now that he finally gave it consideration, it struck Daq as odd that he had never questioned Morax about his motives behind gathering all of the reagents he had in the past months. Over the years, he supposed, the leash he'd kept Morax on had grown less and less tight. By the time they'd been driven out to Marn, it had become a normal practice for Daq to run errands just to quell the nagging sensation of Morax's agitated presence.
He was stirred out of these thoughts by a slowing in pace. In the still-dark, foggy morning, Morax's approach to the compound's front gates had an odd, dream-like quality. From his onlooker's perspective, the movement of his body was less evident, and the imposing walls seemed to materialize out of nothingness. Morax whispered something to himself--something Daq recognized as a way of keeping time people used in the north--and headed for the base of the wall at a run. Evidently, he had been right about the changing of shifts, as no one attempted to stop their approach.
Pressing himself against the wall, Morax slid along for awhile, gently placing small, corked phials at its base. Seven or eight phials later--Daq lost count--Morax darted away from the wall's base. Daq could hear a man shout something at him, but the damp air couldn't carry the sound well enough for the speech to reach him undistorted. He saw Morax's hand reach up into his hair, and then a tint fell over his vision. Daq braced himself. If Morax felt the need for his goggles...
With a swift motion, Morax turned and hurled a final phial at the wall's base. It shattered and a grimy, black smoke ascended for a few seconds from where it made contact. Suddenly, it exploded with a bright and deafeningly loud bang. Despite the goggles, Daq found himself disoriented from the flash. He could hear fingers being pressed into his ears, but the muffling did little to shield him from the violence of the subsequent chain of explosions.
As each successive vial triggered the next, the sound grew louder and louder, until Daq felt the sound reverberating in his chest more than he actually heard it. He was so startled by the last sound, that his exclamation of surprise--"Holy sh.."--actually managed to become partly vocalized before Morax could stifle it.
After his vision returned, Morax briefly surveyed the damage he'd done. Despite the unctuous smoke that rose in the aftermath of the reaction, he could see that most of the front wall had been obliterated and parts of the sides were cracked and beginning to crumble. The shouts of anxious guardsman rose from behind the cloud.
"Hm," he mused, before drawing back into the alley and beginning to lope toward where he hoped Pagusel would be waiting.