Private Tales An Enticing Song

[Tal]

The Tiefling tilted his head in a low nod. "That I am."

There was an odd air about the man. Not the same as with Tal, who seemed to know things he should not have, but another sort of mystery. It was obvious the man could handle himself, but his appearance was off, his features a bit strange.

Despite that he seemed more than welcoming.

"Has you wrapped up in this scheme, eh?" He mused. "Suppose that's his way."

The Tiefling extended a hand. "Eckheart is my name."

 

[Camille]

Camille wasn't sure what she'd been prepared for. Perhaps not this. There was a disarming friendliness to the tiefling. And she wasn't getting the sense that it was like walking the edge of a knife as she had with Tal.

She matched his hand with her own, shaking his with a calming, soothing touch. Almost addicting.

"Camille." The runes along her arm peeked through as the sleeve of her blouse shifted upward. "He reminds me of a fox," she said thoughtfully with a small turn of her lips. "He said I might find something interesting here. Do you know what that might be?"

 

[Tal]

Eckheart nodded his head. "A fox."

A small smile touched the Tiefling's lips, as though Camille had whispered some sort of secret into his ear. His head dipped in a nod, and he quickly flickered his gaze around the tavern. It was as though he were watching, making sure.

"I do." He said. "It's in the back, If you'd like to join me."

Slowly he pushed himself up. "But...Tal did tell me something."

"Message for you." The Tiefling frowned for a moment, glancing down at her as he waited to see if she would even want to hear it.

 

[Camille]

The Tiefling’s check around the room made her do her own. Just a quiet glance. A smoothing out of nonexistent wrinkles from her clothing. She had to wonder if Jareth Blackthorn was tied up in the back. And if so, was he still breathing?

With a small scooch of her chair, she stood looking to Eckheart.

A wave of dark, silky hair free of her shoulder. “I’m listening.” The under lord must’ve planned the message ahead. Because she’d just seen him.

 

[Tal]

The tiefling seemed to look perplexed for a moment, as if he were considering something. "He said…"

His voice trailed off for a moment.

"Said there's more to life than home." That was what Alliria was for Camille; home. When Tal had offered to get her out she'd said no, that this was the place for. It had been a short conversation, but enough apparently that the Fox had remembered it. That he even offered advice against it. "Then said if you believed him to give you this."

Eckhart looked around one more time, then produced a small leather satchel. The inside was brimming with gold coins. A dozen different denominations sat Inside. Some Allirian Crowns, Obanese Marks, even Dornich Gilds. Enough to buy a house and then some

He closed the satchel. "But…also said you're more likely to want to see what's behind that door."

The tiefling glanced towards the back of the club, then towards Camille. A shrug ran over his shoulders.

 

[Camille]

Her expression remained a calm and patient mask. Even as her lavender eyes caught the glint of gold and coin in the satchel. Even above the clinking of glasses and chatter in the club. The scuffle of boots and shoes on the dance floor to the strange music in the corner. And she felt that music in the air, calling to her. Wanting her to take control and command the room.

But she didn't reach for the reins of that nudging.

Or for the satchel other than to gently press it back toward the tiefling's chest. "Belief and agreement are two different things." A gentle stroke of her finger against his knuckles before she withdrew her hands. Alliria was more than just a home. Or even home. And she knew Tal understood and knew that himself.

A tilt of her head toward the door. Tal had said he might see her at the club and she had to wonder if she'd taken the satchel, if it would've fallen on the side of not seeing him. "I would like to see what's behind the door," she confirmed quietly even as the music switched to a more raucous beat behind them.

 

[Tal]

The Tiefling seemed to linger for a moment, and then shrugged.

Satchel was quickly stored beneath his coat once more, tucked away so that no one could slip it from his form. He smiled at Camille, and then made his way towards the back of the tavern. There was no trying to dissuade her, no trying to push her on another course of action.

As far as he was concerned she had made her decision, and more than that he could not change.

Within just a few moments they found themselves at the door. His knuckles rapped against the the wooden door. There was a long pause, then the sound of locks began to click open from beyond. A few seconds later the door opened, and Eckhart stepped inside.

Camille would follow in shortly.

They moved into a dark room. Large enough to hold ten or fifteen people, though currently stacked with crates. The dancer would recognize some of them almost immediately, the very same then had been in nthe warehouse a day ago.

Yet that was not what would catch the eye.

No. That would be a man sitting in a chair, a very very familiar looking man. Jareth.

At least it seemed to be on first pass. He had the same face, the face features, and even the same eyes. The only thing missing was a sligh scar on the neck, A mark that only those close to Jareth knew about.

 

[Camille]

A small tick of her lips at all the locks. Elven-eyes enabled her to see clearly in the darkness. And her entire attention was on the man sitting freely in a chair. It was enough of a look-alike to make her pause in her approach. A narrowing of lavender eyes at his features.

A slow walk around him, hips swaying.

Then she paused standing right in front of the imposter. A glance over her shoulder at Eckheart and back to 'Jareth.'

"Who are you?" This was not the man who liked keeping her close. Who liked gripping her chin in his bloodied hands and running them down her neck.

 

[Tal]

“Didn’t fool her.”​

The man in front of Camille said with a grunt, as though slightly annoyed about the whole thing. ”Aye, well Talmanese said that was likely. Perhaps Miss Camille is just extra observant.”

A frown pulled at ‘Jareth’s’ lips, but he simply nodded in the affirmative. In his eyes there was not much else for him to say on the subject, after all he was simply another pawn in Tal’s great chess game.

The Tiefling slowly looked over to Camile, his expression a mixture of study and consideration.

”What do you think?” He asked her. ”Will it fool Jareth’s less…astute followers?”

Not many people had her elven eyes, and even less people had ever gotten this close to Jareth. Most of his thugs were ordered around through the use of underbosses and Captains. The Kind it was best to keep at arms length.

 

[Camille]

Camille looked over her shoulder at Eckhart, then back to the Jareth imposter. She took another slow walk around him in the chair as if studying a fine piece of art. Pausing in front of the stranger, her finger dipped to underneath his chin and she eased his gaze up to her own.

Just as quickly, she let her hand drop.

As if burned.

"Perhaps," she looked back to the tiefling. "The voice is all wrong so I hope you don't expect him to speak." Her hand fell to her hip as she turned to look more squarely at Eckhart. "Do I get to know yet what Mister Talmanese is planning?"

And what role he wanted her to play.

If she played it.

 

[Tal]

"No." The voice echoed from behind a wall.

A quiet rumble seemed to run over the floor, and then suddenly a panel swung open from the left of the room. A doorway formed, and Talmanese stepped out from within it, pulling himself up to his full height and rolling his shoulder. "We should have made that thing bigger."

He grumbled quietly.

"You said not to, attracts attention."​

Tal shot the Tiefling a look, but didn't say anything.

"I don't give away my tricks, darling." He said, fishing out what appeared to be a small amulet from his satchel. He tossed it to 'Jareth', and then glanced towards Camille. "Ruins the Surprise."

 

[Camille]

A careful look to the ‘doorway’ Tal had just come from before her eyes slid to his golden ones. Did they still have traces of red in them? The vein popping from his neck after drinking that liquid from earlier? Perhaps a gift, or a curse, from Mama Levoux.

“Yes, you hold your cards very close to your chest,” a quiet observation. She hid her amusement at the exchange between Eckhart and Tal.

“Does you plan include me still being here?” That hand on the curve to her hip fell lightly to her side.

 

[Tal]

"Of course it does." The odd red lines still flickered over his eyes, traces that seemed to longer even as his gaze flickered from place to place.

It was oddly unsettling, as though his eyes lingered in place even after he looked away.

"You had your chance to walk away." He told Camille. "And you chose not to."

Lips pursed. "There's no walking away now, Camille."

There was a suddenly flip in his tone, a harsh cut that hadn't been there before. She could try to step away, could try to walk, but that odd blue knife of his would find it's way slowly dragging across her throat.

She'd seen too much now.

 

[Camille]

Camille held his strange gaze. He was not the first man to tell her that nor would he be the last. They always assumed she’d want to walk away from Alliria. Hand lifted, an idle brush of silky strands away from one of her shoulders. Only time would tell if her message made it to her intended. Until then…

“Is he always like this?” Her question was posed to the tiefling.

Then she looked back to Tal. “Did you see him? Did you see Jareth?” She swallowed.

 

[Tal]

"Yes."

The Tiefling grunted in answer to Camille, his eyes flickering briefly towards the Underboss. Something seemed to go unspoken for a brief moment, and then Tal just smiled. "It's because I like to win."

He offered Camille a knowing look, and then waved towards 'Jareth'.

The man seemed to frown for a moment, and then nodded his head. The amulet that Tal had thrown him was gently lowered around his neck. A slight twitch ran over his features, and then he cleared his throat. A sound which would be like an echo of the past to Camille.

"I did." Tal said, turning his odd eyes on her once again.

 

[Camille]

Raven-brows lifted high. Amethyst-gaze swept from 'Jareth' and back to Tal. Very slowly, her arms crossed beneath her chest. Fingers gripping either elbow lightly.

"What did you do?" Even though her voice was a barely a whisper it cut through the cargo-space like a clear-bell. "Did you kill him?"

And as she held his strange gaze, she felt that odd feeling again in the runes along her skin. As if something in her was recognizing something in Mister Talmanese. Fingers held her elbows a little more tightly.

 

[Tal]

Tal smiled, a wicked smile. "No."

There was almost a hint of regret to his tone, a tinge of sadness that would come as a flicker of shock and surprise.

"Not yet." He knew that there was no way to end this save for the man to end up dead. That was part of this, part of the plan.

Slowly Tal stepped over towards the body double, his hand settling gently upon his shoulder. He peered at Camille, head cocking to the side. A small smile touched his lips, that same, confident and cocky expression that seemed almost always painted over his face.

"Nor is that why we're here Camille." He said softly. "I want to make a deal. One that will get you exactly what you want."

 

[Camille]

She leaned back against the wall of crates. One of her slender legs bent at the knee, booted foot stabilized herself against the boxes. Arms remained crossed though her grip loosened slightly on her elbows. Even in her casual pose she looked strangely out of place. As if too beautiful for the space.

"Mister Talmanese. You were the one who came for me. Inside my dressing room at The Painted Dragon. Please do tell me what you think it is that I want."

 

[Tal]

Tal smiled. "Exactly what you told me."

He reminded Camille.

"You want to stay in this city." The words were an echo of her own just a few short hours ago. What she had told him, what she had countered with when he had offered her a way out of this place. "Your own corner of Alliria."

The Underboss smiled. "I'm offering just that. No. I'm offering more."

Tal smiled, then gently gestured to the copy of Jareth. "I'm offering you his corner."

 

[Camille]

“Oh?” Arms uncrossed slowly. One hand came up, studying her immaculate nails as if completely disinterested by this entire conversation. “Mister Talmanese.” Emphasis on mister. “Is this your plan? Put a puppet leader in Jareth’s place? Have me alongside…it, to sell the story? Because if it is,” with no rush to her step or sway in her hips, she pushed off the crates and strolled toward them. Slow and fluid. Graceful as ever.

“Who do you think will take the fall if, no, when they discover this is not actually Jareth? It will not be the Allir Syndicate.” She stopped in front of Tal.

Hand reached out as if she were going to brush some of his red hair away from his strange eyes. Pausing before her fingers touched his skin, she let her hand fall to her side.

It would be her. She’d have the biggest target on her back. Not to mention she couldn’t see the Allir Syndicate wanting a chance to give up the addition of Jareth’s territory.

 

[Tal]

"Tsk." The sound clicked from Tal's teeth.

As she had gotten closer to him his hand had been ready to snap at her wrist, grab her. He did not let anyone touch him. Most certainly not without his word. Had she gone through with it, the artiste would have learned a harsh lesson.

One that she avoided this time. "I'm not that simple, my dear."

Tal said in soft admonishment.

"A puppet can only ever last for so long." He told her simply. "Eventually it needs to be done away with."

As it always had to be. "But only after it has served it's purpose."

He mused. "If you do not want this, then do not take it."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders.

"But I thought it might make for a pleasant parting gift." Perhaps he should try to stop doing nice things for people.

 

[Camille]

A small, sympathetic glance toward the Jareth imposter. Before her eyes flitted back to the Fox. "Are you offering me the territory with no strings attached?" She'd move to glide a step back and then another. She didn't like being this close to Talmanese. Perhaps it was the strange look still in his yellow eyes. Or because her runes pulsed more loudly against her skin when she was.

"Is it yours to offer now? Why would your syndicate not like the territory for themselves?" A small, tilt of her head as he said 'parting gift.' Perhaps this was the end of their journey together. Camille knew it wouldn't be the last time she'd see him but it would be nice to be back in control of things.

 

[Tal]

Tal only smiled. "The Syndicate doesn't care about turf."

No.

For them it was about business. Product. Alliria was the largest city in the whole of the world. A place of trade, movement, and utter chaos. They had no interest in expanding outward, no interest in encroaching on anyone else.

That was what made them so effective. They were brutal, pragmatic, and devious.

"What Jareth has is yours." He told her simply. "If you want it."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "I don't care how simple you are. Camille."

It was the first time he'd used her name.

"I don't care what you want. What desires roaming in that mind of yours." His voice was stern, stoic. "I'm offering this to you because I like you, because I think you're clever, because I think you could use it."

Tal shook his head. "But in the end it doesn't matter. Jareth is going to be a corpse. I'm going to have what I need, and everything else?"

He shrugged. "Everything else doesn't matter."

 

[Camille]

"Alright," she said quietly. Not elaborating on what she was agreeing to exactly. "You said you wanted to make a deal. It works both ways, yes? What do you want that I haven't given you already?"

She knew it was because of her, Jareth's men fought and burned on those docks.

Because of her, Jareth was lead into a trap, though she still didn't know where he was. Only that he was still alive. Fingers smoothed over her dark, silky hair.

 

[Tal]

Tal considered a moment. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

He mused.

"But for now, Maybe it's best not to complicate things with bargai-" He cut himself off. "Oh no."

Head shook. "No I know, silly me, how did I forget."

A small smile touched the Underbosses lips. "I just need ten minutes in Jareth's Vault."

There was an innocence to his voice, as though he were keeping something back. "That's all I need."