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A Single Drop of Blood [Complete]; [P] Jackdaw
Topic Started: Tue Dec 27, 2011 12:08 am (499 Views)
Jackdaw
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Hoping this meeting would be quick, Jackdaw remained on the back of her destrier and watched carefully. She had no business with the Academy herself, being totally devoid of magical capability; it was best that Vee take care of whatever she needed so they could locate their quarry. Anatoli looked a bit tired from the long march, but stood tall and avoided sitting down or leaning as that would show weakness. When it became apparent that they would be here for a while -- Vee's mentor Julian was a little... funny in the head, no doubt confused with brilliance -- the highwayman slid off the back of her mount and led it over to the tying post nearby. She kept to the background, avoiding the attention of the eccentric man.

His conversation with Priscilla continued until something unexplainable happened. A flat, piercing sound like a scream tore into Jackdaw's gut. She almost doubled over in pain, face twisted into a grimace and hands clapped over her ears. The action was useless, though; the unbearable sound only lasted a couple moments. "What the hell was that?" she blurted out, her voice tinged more with fear than aggression. Jackdaw looked to Anatoli, who seemed a little startled but otherwise nonplussed. While the woman simply assumed he was acting as his normal self, her bodyguard had not heard anything for several seconds.

It was then that Julian turned his attention to the two of them. Ignoring Jackdaw's sharp demand for an explanation, he simply stared at her, deep into her, and greeted her by name. She tried her best to compose herself before answering if she went by the name Kiveteles. "Why, yes. I named myself, as a matter of fact." Jackdaw tossed a pointed glare at Priscilla, as if blaming her for the intrusion. Julian walked over to Anatoli and asked him a strange question about getting a woman to love you. The battle-scarred man stepped back, uncomfortable with Julian's close proximity, before rumbling a polite "No, sir."

Jackdaw wouldn't have any more of this. Time was of the essence. Fennec could catch wind of their presence at any moment and skip town, never to be seen again in this godsforsaken desert. "Please, Julian. Listen to your student. She really needs to tell you something."
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Priscilla
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Priscilla flashed a small smile at Jackdaw that she hoped was equal parts apology and embarrassment. She had come to like the woman during their time together, although she still wouldn't trust her for a second. Introducing the criminal to Julian was a sure way to earn her displeasure. The High Sage didn't seem to notice the tension in the air, simply shaking his head sadly at Anatoli's answer. "Ah, my boy, you must find them. They are very useful things. Can help you avoid all sorts of troubles." Jackdaw's next outburst managed to draw his attention back to her, the namer folding his hands behind his head and leaning back from the seething woman. There was a trace of amusement in his eyes, although it was difficult to spot in his infuriatingly calm demeanor. "Shh, there's no need to caw so loudly. They're all dead."

Those three words struck Priscilla like a thunderclap, threatening to bowl her over if she didn't catch herself. She stared at her master with open amazement, her eyes wide. She had known Julian for years and he could still completely flabbergast her. "How did you kn-"

"The wind told me. It whispered Annec's name in my ear, with the rest of them as an afterthought. They will be missed" The namer twirled a finger in the air as if that was the most natural answer in the world. The researcher's breath caught in her throat at the revelation. Annec had been the highest ranked member of the research expedition, a full Thaumaturgical Investigator. She had almost forgotten that the elderly scholar was a common companion of Julian's. They played an odd game together every weekend that used pieces from several different games and no rules that she could understand. She had no idea that their weekly sessions had involved discussing the nature of the wind. It was one of the most difficult names to master, with subtle variations in different locations and at different times. If Julian had truly learned of Annec's death via the elements, he must have been even more talented than she had known. The High Sage turned to fully face Priscilla, reaching out and taking hold of both of her shoulders. "I cannot leave here tonight. I must practice sewing with sunbeams if I wish to catch my true love's eye." He leaned in close, whispering his next words directly into her ear. There was a severity to his tone that she had only heard a few times before. "She changed her name. Be careful."

Priscilla blinked at the strange words, not understanding the Sage's meaning. Before she could ask for an explanation he had straightened, waving merrily to Jackdaw and Anatoli as he skipped away across the courtyard. She turned to watch him for several long moments before shaking her head, turning back to her erstwhile companions. They looked entirely out of place here, trespassers in this institution of learning. She looked down at herself and realized that she probably looked just as foreign. Her clothes were ripped and dirty from the fight at the ruins and the long trek across the desert, while her injuries had not yet fully healed and stood out vividly on her skin. "We can leave the horses here; we need to find your man." She slammed a fist into one palm, her dark red eyes flickering between them. "Do you have an idea of how to find him? Istan City is a big place..." Priscilla shook her head with a soft chuckle. "Unless you had the forethought to keep a vial of his blood it could take a while to pin him down." She had decided during their travels that it would be easier to hunt down this Fennec character before trying to tackle one of the noble merchant-lords. There was a small chance that Jackdaw would simply disappear after completing her objective, but Priscilla had yet to give the woman her promised payment for escorting her back to the city, which should hopefully keep the woman around.

OOC
 
Ugh, sorry for forcing the end of this post. I... didn't know where to go with it.
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Jackdaw
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Jackdaw folded her arms, watching Julian skip away with a dour expression. Priscilla's mentor was annoying, especially his comment for her to not "caw so loudly." Kivi doubted that it was just a figure of speech. If the flamboyant man had a magical sense of their names, he probably found out about her change of species somehow and wanted to make fun of her about it. It wasn't a secret, necessarily, but Jackdaw didn't like being reminded of it with that kind of tone. Luckily Priscilla looked sheepish enough about the situation that she decided not to take out her mild disapproval on the poor girl. She'd gone through enough already. Vee urged them to look for Fennec, first.

"A vial of blood? Well, no, but I do happen to have something with his blood on it." Jackdaw rifled through her destrier's saddlebags until she found a small cloth bag. From inside of it she pulled out a simple necklace with a tribal talisman as its pendant. She held it up to Vee's eye level, showing her. The entire front side of it was coated in a thick, peeling layer of dried blood. The strange patterning was the result of their final altercation before Fennec skipped town. When Kivi had confronted her former subordinate about his dealings with their enemies, a brawl broke out. Fennec was tricky, but not much of a fighter at all. Jackdaw had cornered him, physically overpowered him and nearly beat him to an inch of his life. Blood had poured down his neck and onto his talisman. When a surprise attack caught Kiveteles off guard, Fennec made a run for it; she clawed to keep him from escaping but only managed to snap off his distinctive necklace.

Priscilla didn't need to know any of that. Jackdaw quickly came out of her thoughts of murder and betrayal. "Don't ask." She placed the talisman in Vee's hand, putting on her best smile. "So I suppose you can use this to sniff out our friend? Shouldn't be too hard. I bet he's hiding in some back alley in the slums." Jackdaw made a gesture urging her ally to lead the way. "Careful. He may have thugs protecting him."
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Priscillawas surprised to hear that Jackdaw actually had a sample of the man's blood. She grinned as the woman explained how she had obtained the talisman and handed it over. The scholar turned it over in her palm, watching as small flakes of the rusty powder flaked off onto her hand. "Well, that's a piece of good luck. She brought her hand up to her face, breathing in deeply. Very few people in Imythess had studied blood as much as Priscilla, and thanks to her abilities she had an edge over most other researchers. Over the course of her studies she had learned that there were subtle differences in every person's. She wasn't exactly sure what they were or why they existed, but she could tell the difference between two outwardly identical samples every time. Furthermore, once she had a sample of someone's blood she could almost sense which direction they were in if they were in close proximity. To test this skill, she had one of her students put a small cut on his palm and then try to lose her in the streets of Istan City. It had taken her hours, but she had managed to track his path and eventually overcome him. Now, with Fennec's blood conveniently conserved on the necklace, she had a way to do the same thing for him.

The haemokinetic turned and led her companions into the city, walking down the street with confidence. Every now and then she would stop and draw in a deep breath, her eyes flickering between possible routes. It was a slow process, but they got lucky; within ten blocks of the Academy she felt a small tug on her awareness, indicating that her target had passed through this area recently. Priscilla grinned and informed Jackdaw and Anatoli of her success and immediately began following the trail. It led them on a winding path towards the edge of town, eventually passing the looming walls that had once marked the outer boundaries of Istan City. The population had eventually grown too large for the inner area and so buildings had spread outside of it in every direction. Unlike the inner portions, where most of the buildings were carved out of huge blocks of stone and solid, the structures outside were shoddily constructed. Many of them had been cobbled together from whatever materials were available, bricks and wood and mortar. The streets degenerated at the same time, growing thinner and thinner until it reached the point that a single cart would be hard-pressed to traverse it.

Vee paused, absentmindedly tucking her Academy amulet underneath her clothes as she surveyed an intersection and tried to decide which direction to travel. The people here were dressed in a much poorer fashion, and beggars were crying out from street corners. In the more civilized sections of the city the Army of Istan kept the destitute from pandering on the streets, but patrols were too infrequent here to keep the vagabonds under control. "Keep an eye on your purse." Priscilla followed her own advice as they continued further into the outskirts of town. They were well and truly in the ghetto now. In a few minutes she stopped outside a dusty tavern that had no name on the door, simply a crudely painted picture of a pint of ale. She edged open the doorway and grimaced at the odor of stale alcohol and vomit that wafted out from inside, but she could sense the faint trace of Fennec's blood as well, the strongest it had been yet. "In we go."

The inside of the establishment was shady, with only a crackling fireplace for illumination. The tables nearest the flames were deserted, no doubt due to the heat emanating from the hearth. Priscilla headed for a booth along one wall that would give them a good view of the door. Her eyes flickered from patron to patron in the pub, but she never got the tingling sensation that suggested she was looking at the owner of the blood on the talisman. The researcher sat down on one side of the table, scooting over to make room if one of her companions wanted to sit beside her. The flavor of Fennec's blood suggested he was close, a fact that she shared with Jackdaw in a hushed tone. A serving girl who looked half-dead on her feet set down three mugs of ale without asking what they wanted, sloshing the amber liquid on the grimy table. Priscilla flicked her a few copper pieces to pay for the drink and pulled one of the mugs in front of her, vowing to not taste a single drop of the concoction.

She looked around again, frowning. The tavern was relatively deserted, with only four other guests, the serving girl, and a burly bartender in the room. Yet she could hear a dull murmur that sounded like several people talking at once, and from nearby. A suspicion began to form in the scholar's mind as she leaned back, resting her head against the bench. "I think there's a basement... and I think our friend is in it." Priscilla couldn't see a descending set of stairs in the main room, but there was a door behind the bar that probably led into a kitchen. A thump from underneath the floorboards sounded moments later, confirming her guess. She ran a finger around the mouth of her cup and frowned at the black residue it left on her finger, keeping her tone light. "How do you want to do this?
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Kivi's eyes lit up with delight at the sight of the grimy, run-down tavern. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed upon entering. "This reminds me of Taras. Fond memories. Pangs of homesickness, even." Her tone turned wistful as she seated herself, recalling the old days of palming cards at the Dancing Demon every week's end. "You know, I hear politicians talk about reforming the poor areas. A terrible thing! The seediness, the dirt and grime, it's all so much more lively than the high-class places." Jackdaw nonchalantly grabbed the mug of ale, took a sip without thinking, and spat out the mouthful off to the side while Anatoli stared on. Kivi smacked her lips in disgust, trying to get the taste off her tongue, while Priscilla urged them to come up with a plan.

"Here's what we do." Jackdaw put down the mug and leaned forward with a crafty glint in her eye. "Anatoli blocks the exit. You and I head down there and, you know... take care of the problem. Simple." The highwayman released a delighted laugh; this new environment had done wonders for her mood. "Well, it's not like we're actually drinking this piss, so might as well get it over with sooner rather than later, yeah?" Anatoli nodded and got up, prompting Jackdaw to do the same. It wasn't entirely clear where the entrance to the basement was, though. Her first guess was a door off on one of the building's side halls. The rogue wandered off into the hall. The rooms at the end were empty, but she did notice a rug placed in a strange spot on the floor. Kivi kicked it aside, revealing a large square hatch built into the floorboards. She had another fit of laughter before tearing open the old wood panel, revealing a staircase down.

The loud chatter in the basement masked their arrival; no one noticed the two of them until Jackdaw was stepping off the stairs and onto the stone floor. The air went silent. Slow steps brought her around the staircase and directly in front of a large table where eight or nine heavily armed men were gambling. There was a toothy smile on Kivi's face that showed no happiness: only a twinge of insanity brought on by weeks of festering rage. She opened her arms like she was going to utter a warm greeting, but only a threat came out of her mouth. "Fennec, you idiot!" Everything erupted into chaos in a split second. Hulking Istani men -- smoking, filthy, tattooed -- rose to their feet and unsheathed weapons of all shapes and sizes. The only man who didn't stand was a skinny, younger one with lightly tanned skin and blond hair, arms folded and a confident smirk on his face.
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Priscilla watched as the other woman stood up and cheerfully headed towards the side hallway, wearing an expression of such manic delight that it was actually frightening. She glanced at Anatoli, whose expression had never wavered during his boss's entire tirade. "You know, Blue Eyes, you seem to get the short end of the deal. She's a tad crazy" She stood up from the booth, cradling the heavy wooden mug and leaning forward conspiratorially. "You ever want a good time, you should come work for me." She winked at the impassive outlaw before following after Jackdaw, careful not to spill any of the liquid within. She wasn't sure what it was, but just in case it was actually poison or acidic she didn't want to get any on her clothes or skin. By the time she found Jackdaw the woman had discovered the entrance into the tavern's basement and was chuckling in a decidedly psychotic manner before preparing to descend down the staircase.

The researcher walked down the staircase after her, still clutching the glass and wondering how many laws they were technically breaking. True, it would be incredibly unlucky for a patrol to wander into the seedier part of town today, but luck had not been on Priscilla's side recently. She would probably get expelled from the Academy for conduct unbecoming a faculty member, although Julian might be able to pull some strings to save her job, if not the wreckage of her career. Before her thoughts grew too maudlin they had found the basement and the men within. They seemed to be playing some game of chance on a thick table, but Priscilla and Jackdaw's arrival drew their attention. The confrontation quickly turned ugly, but the scholar had been prepared for that. Without preamble she hurled the mug at the nearest man, the heavy wooden cup striking his temple with a hollow noise and sending him stumbling backward.

Another one of the burly men rushed forward, not even bothering to draw the cudgel at his waist and lunging straight for her, obviously expecting his superior size and strength to give him the advantage. Priscilla ducked under his clumsy strike, taking a moment to glance at Jackdaw and sigh theatrically. "Men in Istan need to learn a thing or two about romance." She caught the ruffian's wrist with one hand, twisting his arm so he was forced to turn away from her to keep the joint from breaking. The woman lashed out with one foot, scraping her heel down the gambler's shin and slamming her heel into his toes. It wasn't hard enough to break them, but it was definitely enough to hurt like hell. He yowled, unconsciously curling up from pain. Priscilla released his wrist and unleashed two quick jabs towards his kidneys, that she followed with an elbow to his throat, not even bothering to enhance the blows with haemokinesis. The man crumpled to the ground with the crimson-haired woman standing over him, not even out of breath. "And seriously, no flowers? Better than roses, I suppose." She didn't seemed worried at all about the various thieves and cutpurses that were advancing with weapons drawn. Compared to the ambushers, these men were nothing.
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Kivi released a hearty guffaw at her partner-in-crime's quip, giving her big knife a showy flourish just before sinking it deep into the gut of a large Istani man who had to be Fennec's personal bodyguard. She tore out the blade, kicked him back, sending him stumbling a few paces like he didn't weigh anything. Unlike normal people, this man didn't make a sound upon receiving such a painful wound. His face went pale for a moment. The bodyguard just stared at her with a strange, vaguely dumbfounded expression. Jackdaw tossed a couple knives at others in that time, but his sudden change from blank to roaring angry jolted her back toward that fight. Instead of keeling over from the pain, he was actively upon her again, fighting faster and stronger than ever before. His rage-contorted face was truly ugly now, and between strikes the highwayman caught a glimpse of his heavily dilated pupils.

Now she was the one on the defensive. Kiveteles used her small size to her advantage, bobbing and weaving in a circle around the wildly flailing weapon. The more he failed to hit, the angrier he became and thus the sloppier his attacks were. It became abundantly clear to the highwayman that this berserker wasn't a very powerful one. The instant he'd make a mistake--... a jolt of pain interrupted Jackdaw's thoughts. Even if he was a terrible berserker, he was still faster than her. She reeled back, free hand flying to her shoulder. His sword had managed to badly nick her through sheer chance. Warm blood pooled from the cut in her nice jacket.

He shouldn't have done that.

Jackdaw lost her smile and gained a frightening intensity in her bearing. Her breathing slowed. The long shadow she cast on the stone ground seemed to flicker unnaturally. Fennec's berserking bodyguard used this pause to attack again, and once again she was too slow to avoid it. His blade carved a line across her collarbone when it was meant to disembowel her. Jackdaw's shadow twisted, became fluid. She fully avoided his next strike by ducking, then shot forward beneath his guard and punched her blade hilt-deep between his ribs. And again. And again. She ignored his animal cries and kept stabbing. He stumbled and fell on his back, and she kept stabbing him. Her shadow cast abstract designs over the whole room: angular features looking vaguely like twisted feathers, talons and beaks all straining against each other. The bodyguard died, and she stopped. Her shadow snapped back to normal.

She stood up, tried to wipe some of the blood off her jacket, and turned to Fennec. The young traitor had lost his smirk and was only staring at her in horror. Jackdaw addressed Priscilla without looking to her. "I trust you can take care of the rest," she said in a normal voice.

Fennec got out of his chair and backed up. The closer she got to him, the further he tried to get away. "Your s-s--shadow--" he sputtered. "--w-what--... are you?"

"The hell are you talking about, Fen?" Her tone was one of genuine confusion. Sure, she'd stabbed a guy to death, but he was trying to kill her too. "You that much of a coward that you can't handle a little violence?" She backed him into a corner. He paused, eyes flicking around, before bolting in one direction. Jackdaw anticipated this from their last encounter and caught him... by the knife. Her knife plunged deep into his lung, and he'd managed to run himself right into it. Kivi kicked him off her blade, letting him fall.

"What are you?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice straining against the blood that began to pool there. "What are you what are--"

"Shut up!" The noise stopped. Jackdaw pulled her knife from his body. "Ye gods! So noisy."

As she tried to compose herself, dusting a little extra blood off her coat and smoothing her hair and hat, Jackdaw looked over to Priscilla to see how she was doing. Of course, that girl was a killing machine. The highwayman quizzically tilted her head. "Need any help over there hun?"
Edited by Jackdaw, Fri Mar 2, 2012 9:19 pm.
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Priscilla
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Priscilla saw Jackdaw shoot forward out of the corner of her eye, the woman brandishing one of the knives she had proven herself to be so adept at wielding. The haemokinetic forced herself to focus her attention on the rest of the ruffians, hoping her companion could take care of herself. One of the men hurled a throwing dagger at her from point blank range, a wicked smile revealing his yellowed, crooked teeth. The brawler snorted and made no attempt to dodge, feeling a small pinprick of pain when it struck her shoulder. It was worth it to see the look on the brute's face as blood oozed out of the wound, hardening and forming a shell around her upper arm and torso. Priscilla turned her attention to a man with a deadly-looking axe that was chopping at her like she was a piece of wood. She threw one arm up in front of her face, looking like she was prepared to lose the limb to get closer. However, her blood-based abilities protected her as soon as he attacked, the weapon rebounding from the crystallized armor. Priscilla slammed a quick punch into his gut to distract him for a moment, eying the rest of the men warily. Ignoring the skinny one who was reclining at the opposite end of the room, there were four men left. Not the best odds, but not the worst either.

"I trust you can take care of the rest."

Well, that will make this more interesting. The scholar frowned at the words, sparing a glance to see how Jackdaw was faring. The woman was approaching who she assumed was Fennec with a frightening expression on hr face. Priscilla turned back to the fight, lunging at the man with the throwing daggers. He slashed at her wildly with the thin blades, his eyes widening in panic as ever blow was deflected by her armor. She drew back one hand, letting her blood flow around it and form a perfect sphere before she hardened it and slammed the globe into his face. Bones crunched underneath her fingers, and when she pulled back her arm his features were a bloody, broken mess. He dropped to the floor, howling, as Priscilla blindly kicked behind her, grinning savagely when she felt her heel connect with someone's shin. She whirled around, putting all of her strength into a wild haymaker that would make her martial arts teacher disown her. It still managed to connect, slamming into another outlaw's skull and crushing it like an eggshell. He fell without a sound, leaving Priscilla facing two more men: one with an axe and another with a long, curved shamshir.

She advanced on the pair, dancing back and forth from foot to foot so they couldn't guess who she planned on attacking first. The decision was made for her when the axe-wielder charged at her, swinging his weapon straight at her face. Priscilla jerked her head back, feeling the edge of the axe carve across her forehead and barely missing her eye before slamming into her collarbone. The haemokinetic brought her knee up into the brute's groin mercilessly, using her elbow to disarm him and send the axe spiraling to the floor. It only took another moment for her to knock the ruffian unconscious, but in that time the last man had managed to get close enough to strike. He stabbed at her ribcage with the shamshir, a look of fierce concentration on his face.

Priscilla started to turn towards him but felt a tug on her stomach, such an unexpected sensation that she paused and looked down. She saw that the curved sword had pierced straight through her armor and had stabbed all the way through her right side, its bloody protruding from her back. Confusion flashed across her face for a moment before she saw tendrils of electricity run along the length of the blade and course into her body. She couldn't completely suppress the cry of pain as the raw power flowed through her body, numbing the area around the wound and making her limbs shake. Internally, Priscilla was cursing her luck. She had not yet managed to find a way to protect herself against elemental magical attacks. She hadn't expected the weakness to inconvenience her in a fight with a group of seedy gamblers.

In a flash of rage she reached forward, grasping the man's throat in her free hand. His eyes bulged as the skin around her fingers turned white, the blood freezing with a thought and making it impossible for him to breath. Priscilla slammed the sphere of blood into his temple to send him falling to the floor, feeling the shamshir shift in her side and eliciting a fresh wave of agony. She stumbled back a few feet, her shoulders hitting the wall. With a pained grunt she slid towards the floor, leaving a streak of blood behind her as she cupped her hands around the wound. "I... don't suppose.... you could pull... this thing out?" She was trying to force her blood to coagulate and stop the bleeding, but the surges of electricity made it impossible to manipulate her blood and she was too weak to pull it out herself.
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The glorious battle concluded with the impact of the final body, but Priscilla was quite clearly hurt. Jackdaw finished adjusting the cuffs and frills on her jacket and walked over, a look of careful confusion on her face. Why couldn't she just harden her blood around the blade rather than letting it gush all about her? Oh, no matter. Jackdaw's toothy smile reappeared. "Heh, girl, this is one of those times when it's forgivable to be impolite." Her fingers wrapped around the hilt while she spoke, then gave a powerful tug the instant her sentence was done. The removal of the curved blade was followed by a final gush of blood, but Jackdaw was too distracted by the interesting shape of the weapon to care.

Kivi took a couple steps back and turned slightly away from Priscilla as she rotated the blade and gave it a few practice swings and flourishes. "What a superb weapon. You don't mind if I keep it?" It was more of a rhetorical question since the highwayman was already in the process of removing the man's belt scabbard and fastening it to her waist.

Upstairs, Anatoli was in the process of damage control. A huge group had converged around him, trying to bully him into opening the door. The tension was so thick in the air that any spark could have ignited a full-on brawl. They were lucky to be so prompt, as Jackdaw's bodyguard stepped aside the moment he spotted his boss and Priscilla. Angry patrons growled threats at him as they left or entered, but thankfully the appearance of the two women was enough to keep people from throwing punches. Everyone knew Fennec and his boys were down there, and based on all the blood, Jackdaw's chipper mood and the smell of death wafting up from the basement, they also knew that they were all dead.

"Let's get out of here," Anatoli urged, nervously avoiding Priscilla's gaze.

"Let's!" Jackdaw practically strutted outside. "Now, what is the next order of business? Priscilla?"

"Um... do you guys need a doctor or anything?" her right-hand man suggested.
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Priscilla didn't reply to the quip, her entire attention focused on the sword protruding from her gut. After some posturing Jackdaw took hold of the shamshir and pulled it out, sending one last flash of electricity coursing through her body. The haemokinetic ground her teeth together and pressed her palms into the hole, her fingernails digging into the bloodsoaked fabric Harden, damn you... Like most magic, her blood manipulating ability was more difficult to use in non-ideal circumstances. Priscilla couldn't be sure, but she thought having a sword pulled out of her torso qualified. The blood finally congealed, forming a layer over the wound that stopped the blood loss, although it did nothing to heal the wound itself. She dragged herself to her feet, knowing that they would need to get out of the basement as quickly as possible. "Go ahead, keep the blasted thing. Just don't point that thing towards me."

The scholar followed Kiviteles out of the basement, still clutching her side with both hands. Every step was agonizing, and there was a unpleasant sensation in her torso that suggested internal damage. She barely noticed the crowd that had gathered in the tavern or the glares from the other patrons, focusing on getting out of the tavern. Once they were in the street she leaned against one wall, coughing deeply and ignoring the flecks of blood that struck the wall. "Doctors... waste of time. Just... need to get... to my apartment..." She pushed herself up vertically, smiling at Jackdaw and Anatoli. Her face was wan and ashen, with a sheen of sweat, but her eyes were resolute. "Let's... go. To Sef... Lahed."

The trip through the busy streets seemed to last far longer than it could have possibly taken, but Priscilla wasn't exactly in the best state of mind. By the time they reached her apartment she was weaving back and forth, her eyes sunken. She stumbled up the stairs to the second level, ignoring the trail of bright red blood left on the white stone. She fumbled in a pouch on her belt for the key, unlocking the door and falling forward. The haemokinetic managed to catch herself before she struck the ground, but it was a near thing. "Please... make yourself... at home..." The room's amenities were not exactly luxurious, but there was a comfortable couch and table with several chairs. The most interesting aspect of her abode were the statues resting on every flat surface; glass had been twisted into bizarre shapes that were oddly beautiful. The jagged shapes were a wide range of colors, shimmering like prisms from the light glancing through the windows. The haemokinetic had learned how to blow glass years ago as a concentration technique.

Priscilla crawled to the small kitchen area, thrusting open a cabinet and withdrawing a small box from within. "God... damn... enchantments..." She threw the lid off, revealing a small bag within. The arcanist unwrapped a cord from around the container, jabbing the end of the tube into the wound on her abdomen. She squeezed the bag, forcing the blood contained within the container into her body. Priscilla gasped as the liquid flowed into her veins, running through her body like ice. She always kept a supply of blood in her home in case of emergencies, although she had never had to use it before. She sighed in relief, looking up at Jackdaw and Anatoli. Color returned to her cheeks as they watched. "I'm assuming that was Fennec, then?"
Edited by Priscilla, Thu Mar 15, 2012 2:23 am.
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Jackdaw
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"What?" The only thing Jackdaw registered was that Priscilla asked her something; the woman was so enamored of the glass sculptures that she didn't hear all of it. Anatoli repeated the question for her, which gave her enough time to straighten to her full height and rip her eyes away from the fascinating objects. "Oh, that smug-looking boy just out of his teenage years, who suddenly became a lunatic a few seconds before I killed him? Yeah, that was Fennec." She only made it halfway through the answer before her eyes were glued to the sculptures again. "These creations... what are they? They shine so beautifully in the light, I can't even comprehend it."

Anatoli stared at her like she was under the effects of some strange, hallucinogenic substance. "It's glass," he answered dryly in an attempt to tone down Jackdaw's childlike wonder. "Did you make them yourself, Priscilla?"

Kivi's eyes glowed at the possibility. "You can make these? But how? They look so delicate. I don't even want to touch them for fear of breaking off something."

"Focus, Jack."

The highwayman took a deep breath and went over to sit next to the other two. She kept her gaze focused on the people in front of her instead of the extremely distracting objects around her. Jackdaw consciously crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap. "Yes. Are you feeling better, Vee? Shall we begin discussing a plan of action for the next course of our deal? It will not be easy, killing a merchant-lord."
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Priscilla
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Priscilla smiled faintly at the bandit's interest in her sculptures. They were the work of an amateur, simply random shapes she had managed to craft without cracking the surface. A true artisan could bend the glass to their will and construct wildly beautiful sculptures that captured the life of their subject. Her studies and research at the Academy would never allow her to spend that much time on her glassblowing, but she still enjoyed the pieces she had completed. "I... feel a bit better. I won't be good to go until after I try to fix the organs that your shiny new toy nicked, but now I won't bleed to death." Haemokinesis was not a traditional branch of magic, but it was still technically an arcane art with a significant weakness; she lost the ability to harden her blood against elemental energy, which was the most prevalent type of magic in Imythess. The enchanted sword had completely nullified her defenses. Usually, she would have prepared for such an eventuality, but she hadn't expected the den of gamblers to own such a dangerous piece of weaponry. "I'll need a day or so to recuperate fully, but that should leave us plenty of time to plan."

She sighed and clamped the tube of the I.V. bag shut, mentally hardening her blood around the wound so that she wouldn't lose any more fluids. If she stayed relatively immobile until she focused on healing, she should be fine. "Merchant-lords technically don't have more rights than ordinary citizens, but money and influence makes them much more difficult to reach. They usually have connections with the Army of Istan as well, given the sultan's current militaristic attitude. Getting an appointment to see him will be next to impossible, given my current rank." Although Istan was more tolerant of magic-users and women than most governing bodies in Imythess, the nobility still had a haughty disdain for anyone who lacked wealth and standing. A Mystic Researcher wouldn't have enough nearly enough influence to meet with such a man.

"That, of course, leaves subterfuge. Which is unfortunate for me, since haemomancers died out a century ago and crimson hair is a bit of a rarity, but I should be able to make do. I don't suppose you're opposed to some, oh... how to phrase this delicately..." There was a decidedly malicious light in the arcanist's eyes as she smiled, which made her look rather sadistic. "Breaking and entering is too innocent. Breaking and murdering, perhaps? No, too crude." She shook her head, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. "Whatever. We can figure out the semantics later. Do you know much about sneaking into manors? Somehow I missed that portion of my formal education."
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Kiveteles laughed. Funny girl, that Priscilla. "Sneaking into manors is one of the simplest, most effective skills I have at my disposal. Why, it was one of the first abilities I ever developed, beyond just stealing things." It was true: as a bird, Jackdaw quickly came to understand that people kept their most valuable possessions locked up in their homes. She became highly adept at sneaking into and out of buildings by careful observation of their owners' routine, skillful manipulation of locks using tools grasped in the beak, and sneakiness to avoid getting hit with brooms. Of course, the stakes would be much higher here. She was a human now, and their target wasn't a trinket, but a person's life. It was a challenge that delighted her with its riskiness.

"The problem may seem difficult. For example, we can assume that the manor will be heavily guarded. Even getting close won't be easy, as you said. Rich people also tend to be paranoid and will do strange things to protect themselves and their goods. The solution is simple: we think like a bird." She leaned back, a pleased look on her face. "All we humans do is just stare at the ground. Birds consider every angle: left, right, up, down. They spot loopholes and entrances that humans completely fail to consider. When we go to that mansion, I bet we will find one or two ways to exploit their negligence. First we go during the day and find it. Then we come back at night and kill the man as he sleeps. If we're discovered, I will get you out of there so your vengeance doesn't incriminate you. Anatoli and I will then destroy the remaining guards and make haste from this arid region. Does that plan sound adequate to you?"
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The haemokinetic nodded. Kiviteles had seemed like a woman who would know the best way to sneak into a noble's household, and her response verified that. "That should work fine. We can work out some of the details... :ater." Priscilla squirmed, wincing as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain crashing through her body. "Now, if there's nothing else pressing... My innards are a bit messed up, and I should probably take care of that. Feel free to stay here, go shopping, whatever." She turned her attention away from the pair of outlaws and focused on the hole in her gut, grinding her teeth together. From her anatomy studies, she guessed that the shamshir had probably nicked her intestines, which was a rather important organ that she preferred being whole. That also meant that without careful care, the wound would sour and poison her from the inside out.

The first matter she needed to take care of was all of the internal bleeding. Priscilla commanded some of the blood to gather around the gash in the organ, hardening the liquid and pinching the internal injury shut. Once that was done she focused her attention on locating all of the fluids that had leaked out of her intestine and into her bloodstream. It was a relatively simple matter, but what came next was not; she had to direct all of the acidic muck out of her system somehow. She tackled this problem by moving it to the surface of her skin near where the sword had entered her body. A thick, black sludge began to seep out of the hole, dripping down the woman's side. Priscilla frowned and grabbed a cloth off the counter to wipe up the poison she had expelled before working on the last step: actually binding the wounds closed and accelerating the healing process. She worked with the precision of the surgeon, crystallizing a thin sliver of blood that she wove through the sides of the wound as if it was a needle and thread. The result was an angry line of crimson stitches across her gut around two inches long. She repeated the process with the gash in her back and the wound along her intestinal track, sealing off the organ so that it could heal properly.

The haemokinetic sighed and lowered her hands from the wound, assessing her handiwork. Not as quick or easy as actual healing magic, but at least she could move with only a marginal amount of pain. Priscilla stood up, her movements much more fluid than before and stretched carefully, making sure no to disturb the bloody stitches too much. "There. Much better." She glanced at the window and realized that several hours had passed since the brawl in the tavern, which meant that Jackdaw and Anatoli were probably bored out of their minds by now. The arcanist walked into the back room and quickly changed into a set of clothes that weren't bloodstained and torn, which made her feel infinitely less grungy. She came back into the main room and plopped down on the couch.

OOC
 
I'm not sure if Jackd'aw and Anatoli would have stuck around the apartment while she healed herself, so I didn't have her talk to them or anything.
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"Shopping! And picking up the horses from the Academy!" Jackdaw picked up her bag and was already on her way to the door. She stopped and turned when she saw Anatoli following her. "You're coming with? You hate shopping with me."

"Just let me come," he said through clenched teeth, and they both disappeared a moment later.

She was quick to smack the man on the side of his shoulder. "The hell's wrong with you? You keep acting all weird around Priscilla."

"...I-I think..." Anatoli stoically kept his eyes forward even though his voice was faltering. "Well, after you left to look for Fennec she said something to me that, well- I think she... propositioned me."

Kivi stared dumbfounded for a split second and then burst into uproarious laughter. "Oh my! An ugly vet like you? Really? Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm just pulling your leg." She gave him a heavy pat on the back as though congratulating him. "Why're you getting all weird out about it, then? She's incredibly pretty, you're sort of ruggedly handsome, it's perfect." She studied him closer, making him even more uncomfortable. "Hm. It's the scars, I bet. Istani women love scars." Anatoli's face was blank, but had taken on such a deep shade of red that Jackdaw couldn't help but crack up again.

"I don't-- I'm not... interested in... that kind of thing anymore," he managed to say. This only made Jackdaw's eyebrows raise.

"Well, that's strange. Something wrong with you?" Her eyes dipped down for a few seconds.
"No!"
"Oh. Well now I'm just kind of insulted on the poor girl's behalf."

"Will you please stop snooping into my personal life, Jackdaw?" Anatoli growled. "Not that you're anyone to judge. Being a 'bird' just means you lay a bunch of eggs." Mentioning this made his voice take on a decisively mocking tone. "You don't even understand all the ways humans interact, either romantically or otherwise."

Jackdaw's brow wrinkled with indignation. "Jackdaws mate for life before we can even lay eggs. I had plenty of things to worry about. What you're talking about is just fun, not romance."

Anatoli looked up at her, backing up on what she just said. "Wait, really? Did you have babies too?" She nodded. He knew her claims were a delusion, but if true it was a tiny bit strange that there were a couple blackbirds flying around that were literally her offspring. "And what happened to your mate now that you're a human?"

"He got eaten by a cat."

That managed to kill the conversation.



The pair returned a couple hours later with a bag of goods and a few horses hitched outside. Jackdaw jabbered delightedly about her new clothes that would make this heat less agonizing for her while still remaining classy. "I decided I'm going to stay at an inn tonight," she declared completely out of the blue a few minutes later. "To give you two some privacy." Anatoli really wanted to bury his head in the ground at that moment. "But first, we should decide on the details of this plan. What say you, Vee?"
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