Private Tales Drugs and Deceit

[alphabunny]

Rou was amused by the mini tiff between Urchin and Finnegan. She looked directly at mute now, seemingly only speaking to him. "What exactly is it you want each of us to do? I grew up in the shallows so I know the inns and outs of that hole."

 

[Móirne]

"Love the hair." He winked at her.

Móirne turned to face Finnegan and frowned. The compliment, though no less appreciated, was less impactful when coming from a stranger. Sure, Urchin was a stranger too, but at least he wasn't calling Samara that ridiculous pet name.

"An' yer... Moar... Morn... More Nai? Like Mornin'?" he asked, utterly butchering the name.

Móirne snorted, lips curling upward. Urchin's remarks were cute, endearing even, and she couldn't help but smile. He reminded her of the little brother she'd always wanted but never had.

"MORN-yeh," She repeated, carefully enunciating her words.

"Right I guess there's enough of ya hear ta tell ya what the job is," he said, lowering his voice.

Móirne listened quietly. After Urchin finished explaining the situation, Samara asked if they were expected to kill them. A valid question, especially considering the repercussions of stealing the drugs; she'd seen plenty of gangs go to war for much less. Mute made a few gestures that were easily translatable. It didn't look like official sign language but considering his profession, Móirne doubted the man had much time to learn.

Then, in between the banter, Urchin translated Mute's last motions. She pursed her lips, arms remaining crossed. She contemplated her own answer while listening to Samara and Rou talk.

"I'm good at killing people," Móirne finally answered. It was straightforward and to the point. After much consideration, she added, "I'm skilled in hand-to-hand combat. I can also use magic to generate electricity, only through my armour though."

 

[Mute]

Mute gave a heavy sigh as Urchin seemed to be initiating the worlds weirdest bromance with Finnegan. How cruel could fate be when Mute lost his tongue for simply speaking the truth, whilst Urchin was free to say whatever popped into his bizarre little head? One of these days, he was going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person and they would NOT find it funny. And doubtless, Mute would need to be the one to save his ass, as usual.

"For this job, you're just interested in knowing I know how to handle a blade, can mount obstacles most others would find daunting, and can avoid going unseen if I wish."

Mute nodded thoughtfully at Samara's response. Moving unseen and unobstructed in the shadows would be extremely useful talents for this particular job, where keeping things quiet was essential to the mission. He could certainly use her. But how best to utilize such talents?

"What exactly is it you want each of us to do? I grew up in the shallows so I know the inns and outs of that hole."

Perfect. She knew her way around the Shalows. Almost certainly, she'd know her way around the docks as well. Where each ship docked, who captained them, what goods they transported and, most importantly, how well guarded they would be. Mute had no quarrel with any of the other smugglers in the city at present, but it could cause trouble if crew members from other ships were alerted to any trouble. Perhaps they could find a way to silence them... Temporarily of course.

"I'm good at killing people," Móirne finally answered. It was straightforward and to the point. After much consideration, she added, "I'm skilled in hand-to-hand combat. I can also use magic to generate electricity, only through my armour though."

Now that was something he was glad to hear. This job required keeping deaths to a minimum, but minimum certainly didn't mean zero. There was one man in particular that Mute was more than happy to make an exception for. The man responsible for getting the drugs cut. The one who had almost gotten little Urchin killed, along with any consumer who might have purchased the drugs, had he not discovered the dangers in time. No. If he had free reign to carry on trading, he was bound to get more people killed. For him, Mute had absolutely no issue in dispensing some underworld justice.

After considering his plan for a few moments and reluctantly accepting that it was unlikely anybody else was going to show up, Mute spread out the map of the docks he had been working on in the center of the table and reached into his pocket to reveal a handful of stones, using four rather unremarkable pebbles to hold the map down in place. He then considered the rest of his little collection of small stones and began to set one in front of every person sitting at the table.

In front of himself, he placed a polished bead of black onyx. In front of Urchin, a small pebble of red jasper. For Móirne, he chose an amethyst, which matched her hair rather nicely. For Samara, a lapis stone to match her ice blue eyes. For Rou, a pebble of green jade, and for Finnegan, a yellow topaz. He then locked eyes with Urchin and started moving stones about the map, waiting patiently for the boy to translate his instructions.

 

[Urchin]

"What exactly is it you want each of us to do? I grew up in the shallows so I know the inns and outs of that hole."

"Really? Me too!" Urchin declared happily. "Ya know, I reckon I seen ya 'bout here an' there. Ya ever been ta the Siren's Song Tavern? Think maybe I seen ya in..." But his words trailed off as Mute fixed him with a hard stare, reminding him that he wasn't here to socialize.

"Okay, okay... So I reckon all these stones are us," he explained, to which Mute nodded in agreement. "Mute's the black one, I'm the red one. Miss Móirne," he said, pronouncing it correctly this time. "Yer the purple one. Queenie's the blue one, Rou's the green one an' Baby Cakes is the yellow one."

He then watched as Mute placed a few more stones on the map, some considerably larger than others, and the larger ones all in the water. "I think those ones are meant ta be the boats," Urchin guessed, to which Mute nodded once more, glad that the red headed runt could show a little initiative when he put his mind to it.

Urchin then watched as Mute scattered a few small stones by the larger ones representing the boats, and then moved the red jasper, the green jade and the blue lapis onto the map. "Okay, so I guess them tiny pebbles are the folks on the boat. Mute wants us ta..." his eyes went wide when Mute brushed the small pebbles out o' the way. "Wait, what?" he asked in shock. "Ya serious? Mute, dun ya think that's a bit..." but his voice softened after Mute made a few more hand gestures. "Oh, I see! Ya want 'em ta take a little nap!" Mute nodded in agreement. "Okay, we can do that... Darts with some kind o' tranquilizer could work... Or we could sneak inta their kitchens an' slip a little sleepin' potion in their tea. What da you guys think?" he asked Rou and Samara. No doubt between the three of them, they could come up with a solid plan to make sure that whatever skeleton crew remained on the ships docked in the harbor would be incapacitated while the action was going on.

Mute then considered the map carefully, strategically placing them before moving a large stone to an empty dock. "Right, so I'm guessin' this is where 'e wants us ta be when the smugglers come in with the goods." Urchin tapped his finger on the roof of the Siren's Song where the black onyx and green jade were places. "Rou, yer on the roof o' the inn with Mute. Gonna be keepin' watch fer when the ship arrives. Then ya gotta give us the signal."

Mute then started to move the red jasper and amethyst to an alley at the edge of the docks. "Móirne, you an' me go 'ere, right where the dock ends. Then we..." he watched carefully at Mute's hand gestures, trying to puzzle out what it was he wanted them to do. "... Fire? ... Lightnin'? ... Explosion?" he puzzled over the gestures for a moment, but then the realization struck him when Mute took the remaining pebbles that were placed around the dock area and moved them to the edge of the dock where the red and purple stones were. "'E wants us to make some kinda distraction ta draw all the folks 'round the docks, so that they dun disturb us." Mute nodded in agreement to Urchin's guess. "Summin' what'll keep 'em occupied fer awhile while we get the job done. Then 'e wants us ta bugger off before the guards come runnin'." He assumed as Mute maneuvered the red and purple stones through the winding alleyways.

The blue lapis stone and the yellow topaz had been concealed by the edge of the dock next to the smuggling vessel up to this point. "So, Queenie an' Baby Cakes are standin' at the dock waitin' for the boat... But Mute, dun ya reckon the captain'll reckon it's suspicious when 'e sees..." Mute made an X with his arms to shut Urchin up, pointing at the two stones, holding up one arm in a straight line and putting his free hand underneath it. "Oh, I see! Yer hidin' under the docks! Ya both can swim right? Dun really matter I guess, water's pretty shallow... Guess that's why they call it the Shallows. Anyhow, Mute wants ya ta hide under the docks while they unload the goods. Eventually there'll be some big kaboom an' folks'll go runnin' in the opposite direction. Then 'e wants ya ta come out an'..." he raised an eyebrow as Mute held up two clenched fists. "Knock 'em out? Clonk their 'eads together? Throw 'em in the water" Mute nodded, not to any comment in particular, but just the general idea that they were meant to take care of them in some way or other.

Mute then tapped on the green jade on the roof, before pointing specifically at Rou's bow. "Rou, I reckon 'e wants ya at the ready with yer bow, so ya can 'elp out Queenie an' Baby Cakes if things go south." Once again, Mute nodded his agreement. He'd prefer to keep the deaths as minimal as possible, but if it got to the point where one of their little team looked like they were in serious trouble, he'd prefer one of the smugglers to die than one of their own.

Mute then went back to maneuvering the red jade and purple amethyst. "Okay, so I meet up on the roof with Mute an' Rou. An' Miss Móirne, yer teamin' up with Queenie an' Baby Cakes. Ya okay helpin' them with knockin' the lights out a few smugglers, right?"

Mute then took a firm hold of Urchin's arm to make sure he had his full attention. He took another semi precious stone from his pocket. A tiger eye stone. He placed it on the table rather than on the map, and placed the amethyst beside it. He then made a very clear, very recognizable gesture of a hand across his throat. "Oh..." Urchin mumbled, looking slightly anxious. "Mute, are ya sure that?" Mute didn't even need to nod, he just fixed Urchin with that cold, unwavering stare that showed he was deadly serious. "Miss Móirne, there's someone Mute wants ya to look out for. Ain't sure if he'll stay an' unload the goods or if he'll head straight to the Siren's Song, or if he'll go ta see what the big kaboom is all about, but he'd important... See, this guy's the one responsible fer the goods. The one what got 'em cut. Underlin' ta the big boss man, so ta speak. 'Es the one got 'em cut... Mute... 'E dun want 'im cuttin' no more powder with none o' that poison shit. Ya think... Ya think ya might be able ta shut 'im down fer good?" Urchin seemed really reluctant to ask this. While he wasn't particularly fond of the man who had cut his cocaine with enough fentanyl to kill him and potentially dozens of others, he wasn't exactly comfortable handing out a death sentence to anyone.

 

[Samara Asenta]

It impressed Samara how much thought Mute had put into the plan. Despite Urchin being a little overly enthusiastic about everything, the silent partner was intelligent enough to ensure this wasn't a suicide mission. As it would turn out, the man was also blood thirsty enough to see this through to whatever end; not that the younger partner seemed particular smitten with targeting one among many in particular. if nothing else, she'd learned quite a bit about the pair of criminals that sought their aid.

"Ale." Samara looked over at Rue and then back to Urchin. "Their food, if the time table aligns, but their drink's a sure bet if they're on guard duty. I know a sedative that will knock them out." Not that the Elf would oppose any alternatives put forth. Couldn't say tranquilizer darts were a weapon she'd used often, personally. Could always just sneak up behind them and stab them in the neck. Her eyes shifted back to her Elven partner curious what the other woman's thoughts were.

Samara then reached forward with a hand to touch the map laid out before them. Frosted eyes slid over the placements as they'd been called out. "Hiding under the dock won't be a problem." A smile graced her lips before Samara settled back into her seat again. Might not be swimming in the Shallows exactly, but it'd get the job done. They'd learn the particulars out in the field when they were too committed to balk. Nothing like a misunderstanding at that very moment to collapse their little enterprise.

Knock them out, wait for the distraction, then haul the goods off before the conscious ones noticed or returned. Oh, and whatever happened don't let anyone see your face. Nothing like being wanted by a criminal organization to make life more difficult than it already was. Not to mention getting caught wasn't an option.

Just one more question sprung to mind. "How are we transporting all this merchandise?" The smugglers might have some kind of wagon loaded and all they had to do was steal that, but Samara was understandably curious if their employers knew that one crucial detail. Hauling all of it away by hand before being noticed seemed unlikely. Unless it came in unexpectedly smaller packages than what had sprung to mind earlier.

 

[alphabunny]

Rou listneded silently and nodded along with the plan, once everyone had had their say she spoke up, "I grew up pretty close to the docks, most of the young men working there are an aquintance of mine. If Treastel is still the bar keep at the Tavern we will have no issue sneaking onto the roof. Him and I go a long way."

She thought about how they would drug the guards. "Put something in their drink," Rou agreed with Samara. "Like I said, if Treastel is still there he can help us out on that one aswell. No questions asked." Rou could see suspiscion and caution written across some of their faces, "he owes me a favor." She said bluntly , got up and headed back to the bar.

 

[Milo]

Baby Cakes
Finn let out a chuckle that seemed to fill the entire tavern, he looked at Urchin, "gotta say thats a good one kid."

He turned to Samara, "hear that my queen." Finnegan smiled is normal dashing smile, he moved a piece of hair out of her face," you and I till the end."

He turned and sat, arms out stretched, completely relaxed as if that was not an intimate moment.
"Sounds good to me, especially hiding until needed. I got a rep you see, I also always work alone so if I get seen unnessisarily with any of you lot," he pointed at each of them. "It would not work out well for this plan."

The elf got up , Rou he thought her name was, and went of asif this were a nonchelant converstaion on had each day. Strange young lady that.

 

[Diedrick]

It was at this point that a presence entered the tavern. It swung the doors wide open while seeping inside. It was a man, standing roughly two meters tall from crown to feet, wearing unassuming clothes and an even more mundane expression. He approached the table, allowing the group to get a better look at his features. Besides being tall and broad framed, he appeared incredibly muscular, judging by his bare arms and protruding shoulders. The stranger had moppy, hazelnut hair nearly reaching the length of his shoulders. His golden eyes scanned the area, taking in any notable details.

"Oy Oy seems like I came in late," piped up the muscular man. He might've looked shredded as all hell, but his youthful face betrayed him. He couldn't be older than twenty-five, that was for sure. "It wasn't easy finding the damn establishment. I am awful with these... map-related things." His was a voice with a hint more power than the frame would've suggested. It wasn't a disciplined tone, but the one that imposed discipline as the gruff male vocalized. Unlike the rest, it seemed as if he were unarmed. Upon closer inspection, one could find no traces of concealed weapons upon Diedrick's form.

It became increasingly clear that Diedrick didn't dress as colorfully as some of the other party members. Instead of jewelry, armor, or fine tunics, he sported a sleeveless shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of combat boots. Diedrick flexed, throwing a gaze at the Urchin, noticing that the lad was in the middle of something. Like a slick panther, he leered closer, unhindered by his muscle-bound frame. For someone who must've massed close to one-hundred thirty kilograms, Diedrick moved with impeccable grace.

Diedrick's dinner-plate-sized hand landed upon Urchin's shoulder, lightly squeezing it while gently shaking the teenager. Diedrick expected to grab his attention this way after having nearly soundlessly sneaked behind his soon-to-be employer.

Urchin

 

[Móirne]

Móirne listened with interest as Urchin enthusiastically explained the plan, pausing every once in a while to glance at Mute. The man would nod or make another gesture, and then Urchin would continue; it was a good system. She idly tapped her fingers against the table.

"Miss Móirne, there's someone Mute wants ya to look out for. Ain't sure if he'll stay an' unload the goods or if he'll head straight to the Siren's Song, or if he'll go ta see what the big kaboom is all about, but he'd important... See, this guy's the one responsible fer the goods. The one what got 'em cut. Underlin' ta the big boss man, so ta speak. 'Es the one got 'em cut... Mute... 'E dun want 'im cuttin' no more powder with none o' that poison shit. Ya think... Ya think ya might be able ta shut 'im down fer good?"

Móirne nodded. Then, she stuck her hand in her pocket and retrieved a sheet of parchment, slamming it on the table.

"This him?" She asked. It was a poster featuring a scraggly-looking man with greasy hair. The man -- Cheever -- was big and heavyset with large hooped earrings. He was the reason Móirne was here in the first place, having been commissioned to take him out. She didn't feel bad for him; the man was scummy and repulsive, even among most criminals.

He turned to Samara, "hear that my queen." Finnegan smiled is normal dashing smile, he moved a piece of hair out of her face," you and I till the end."

Móirne shuddered. That was a woman he'd just met, right? Why did he feel that it was okay to touch her so intimately? She scowled and shifted away from Finnegan. Móirne would've decked him in the face if it weren't for the fact that Samara could take care of herself.

Plus, she was sure Mute wouldn't appreciate her violence. Móirne settled for sending him a distasteful look. When her anger refused to simmer, she made a vulgar gesture at him underneath the table. She didn't think he meant it badly but it still rubbed her the wrong way.

 

[Mute]

"Ale." Samara looked over at Rue and then back to Urchin. "Their food, if the time table aligns, but their drink's a sure bet if they're on guard duty. I know a sedative that will knock them out."

Mute nodded in agreement. It was a solid plan. And if the sedative was mixed with ale, the sailors might not even realized they'd been drugged and just assume their little on the job nap was caused by drinking too much alcohol. Even better that Samara knew of a decent sedative that would knock the men out without causing any lasting harm. Mute had something prepared, but had little personal experience in the use of narcotics, and would prefer to trust to Samara's judgement. She seemed like an experienced lady who knew what she was talking about.

Just one more question sprung to mind. "How are we transporting all this merchandise?"

A good point, Mute had yet to mention the transport, the escape plan and the rendezvous point. Taking one of the larger stones that originally represented a ship, he started moving it across the map to represent the route that the drug smuggler's wagon would make, and also moved the semi-precious stones to indicate how all of them would escape, and where they all would meet. He left it to Urchin to translate, though the others would probably be able to guess the plan just by watching the stones as Mute moved them across the map. It was relatively simple.

"I grew up pretty close to the docks, most of the young men working there are an aquintance of mine. If Treastel is still the bar keep at the Tavern we will have no issue sneaking onto the roof. Him and I go a long way."

Perfect, the woman had connections. Not only that, but it was likely the sailors in the area knew her well enough that they'd take a drink from her hand without question. all he needed was the alcohol to drug. As Rou got up and headed back to the bar, Mute caught up with her, slid a couple of silvers out of his pocket and pointed to an untapped keg of ale in the far corner of the bar. Hopefully the little band of mercenaries wouldn't drink it all before the job began. He then rummaged through his pockets for a handful of coppers, placing them down in front of Rou, so that the lady could buy herself whatever drink she'd gone to the bar for. After all, considering the small team they had to work with and the amount of work they'd all be doing, the least he could do was buy the woman a drink for her efforts.

"Sounds good to me, especially hiding until needed. I got a rep you see, I also always work alone so if I get seen unnessisarily with any of you lot," he pointed at each of them. "It would not work out well for this plan."

Mute had no complaints there. If all went to plan then none of them would be seen by anyone, save for the drug dealers they were tossing into the harbor. A thought occurred to him then and he turned back to Urchin, pointing to Finnegan and Samara before making a gesture of waving his hand across his face, then miming the removal of a mask. He wasn't really sure about this idea though. Masks impaired the wearer's vision, which wouldn't be ideal in a fist fight. Still, he would leave it up to each individual to decide it they were skilled enough to work with a mask unimpeded.

Diedrick's dinner-plate-sized hand landed upon Urchin's shoulder, lightly squeezing it while gently shaking the teenager. Diedrick expected to grab his attention this way after having nearly soundlessly sneaked behind his soon-to-be employer.

When the new arrival placed his hand firmly on Urchin's shoulder, Mute's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his dagger, seeing as the man was most certainly a threat. As he watched though, it seemed that the stranger didn't actually mean the boy any harm, which was just as well, since from the look of him, he could easily rip the boy in two without much trouble. Breathing a sigh of relief and easing his hand away from the dagger, Mute moved back to the table and sat himself down. It looked like they had a late arrival to the party. One who could certainly hold his own in a fight, that was for sure. Reaching into his pocket, he looked through what semi-precious stones he had left before selecting a blood red garnet and setting it down on the map beside the lapis stone and the topaz. Together, he doubted the three of them would have much trouble among a group of ill prepared and unsuspecting smugglers.

"This him?" She asked. It was a poster featuring a scraggly-looking man with greasy hair. The man -- Cheever -- was big and heavyset with large hooped earrings.

Mute took the poster from Móirne and didn't have to inspect it long recognize the drug dealer. His grizzly face would be a difficult one to forget. Mute nodded to Móirne with certainty. Lucky woman. It seemed that she would be getting paid twice for the same job. Unlike Urchin, Mute had absolutely no gripes about ridding the world of this disgusting specimen. He wasn't a particularly ruthless or violent man. He just recognized that there were some people that the world would be better off without.

Móirne shuddered. That was a woman he'd just met, right? Why did he feel that it was okay to touch her so intimately? She scowled and shifted away from Finnegan. Móirne would've decked him in the face if it weren't for the fact that Samara could take care of herself.

Mute gave a rare smile at the scowl on Móirne's face, giving her an understanding look before rolling his eyes at whatever game Finnegan and Samara were playing. Like Móirne, he could clearly see that Samara didn't need any help. By the way she toyed with Finnegan, he genuinely couldn't tell if she was flirting back with him, or planning on eating him for breakfast. Either way, he imagined the woman would get what she wanted by the time the night was through.

 

[Urchin]

Well, it seemed that everything was going swimmingly. Some of the team were even contributing to the plan themselves, making things even smoother than they already were. Considering only a fraction of the people that Urchin was expecting had actually showed up, it actually looked like things were going to work out... Of course, Urchin was an optimist. He wasn't considering the hundreds of things that could possibly go wrong with the plan, or the chance that some of his new friends might actually end up dead.

"How are we transporting all this merchandise?"

"Same way they're transportin' it, I guess," Urchin said, watching Mute move the stones across the map for further clarity. "We wait till the goods are almost all loaded up, then ya pounce on 'em! Steal the wagon or cart or whatever they usin' ta shift the goods an' drive off inta the sunset! Folks in the wagon meet up with the folks from the roof all the way down the old flea market on the goods to the boss an' makes the deal. The rest of us head back here fer a celebratory drink! Then Mute dumps the cart in the bog so no one finds it, an' we all get paid!" he declares happily... Until a sudden thought occurred to him. "Uh... Mute... Ya ain't gonna dump the horse in the bog with a wagon, are ya?" Urchin might be willing to turn a blind eye to the death of a scummy drug smuggler, but not an innocent horse! Luckily, Mute just breathed a heavy sigh, shook his head and made some more hand gestures. "Oh, okay, I guess we're just gonna set it free... Hey, anybody skippin' town any time soon what needs a horse?"

Baby Cakes
Finn let out a chuckle that seemed to fill the entire tavern, he looked at Urchin, "gotta say thats a good one kid."

Well, at least Finn had a sense of humor. It looked like the two of them might actually get along after all. "Glad ya like it, Honey Muffin," he joked... What a strange little bromance this was turning out to be.

"Sounds good to me, especially hiding until needed. I got a rep you see, I also always work alone so if I get seen unnessisarily with any of you lot," he pointed at each of them. "It would not work out well for this plan."

"What? Ya worried that bein' seen with three beautiful women is gonna 'urt yer rep?" the lad teased, then noticed the gestures that Mute was making, raising an eyebrow in confusion before finally catching on. "Oh, Mute says ya can wear masks if ya dun want nobody ta see ya... Ain't really sure what we could use fer masks though. I 'ear ladies stockings work real well, but they look fuckin' stupid."

Diedrick's dinner-plate-sized hand landed upon Urchin's shoulder, lightly squeezing it while gently shaking the teenager. Diedrick expected to grab his attention this way after having nearly soundlessly sneaked behind his soon-to-be employer.

"Ya!" Urchin yelped in surprise as he felt a heavy hand squeeze down on his shoulder. "I didn't do it! It weren't me! I didn't steal nuthin!" Looking up at his assailant though, it seemed that it wasn't some angry theft victim, but rather a fine specimen of hired muscle that Urchin had contacted to help with the job. "Oh, 'ello." The boy greeted the man with a friendly smile upon realizing that he wasn't an enemy. "Ya 'ere 'bout the job, yeah? I'm Urchin. You?"

Well, since the others were already filled in on the situation, the boy decided to give the abridged version. "So 'ere's the job. Drug heist. Gonna steal some powder from these folks what swindled us. First, we gotta make everyone on the docked boats take a nap. Then we make a big distraction, so that no one round the docks causes us no trouble. Then my friends Queenie an' Baby Cakes will sneak out an' beat the shit out the smugglers. Then we steal their cart an' drive away with the goods... Ya look like you know 'ow ta clonk some 'eads together. How'd ya feel 'bout hidin' under the docks till the smugglers come?"

 

[Samara Asenta]

Rou seemed to have an edge on the situation that Mute would encourage in short order. As for the hows and whys, the woman received no side-long looks or scowls. If the man owed her a favor, he owed her a favor. "Will he need the sedative?" That was all Samara needed to know. Seemed that might be all she'd get out of Rou before she stalked over to the bar.

Samara then smiled even in the face of Finnegan's presumption of closeness. Móirne didn't approve; and she didn't go out of her way to hide the disdain either. Understandable, of course. They had just met and the man was being awfully assertive, but the Elf had no reason to bat an eye in the face of such things. It was just a hair.

The real questions were whether Finnegan meant anything by it, or was merely toying with her or the group. Likewise, what Samara intended to get out of the exchange. Things some had already wondered even if they didn't feel like spending a great deal of time contemplating it or caring. For Samara's part, whatever it was she intended to keep hidden until the right moment. After all, she was already used to being looked upon as a monster, what were a few 'how could she's'?

"Till the end," Samara breathed as the tip of her finger traced its way up the side of the man's neck.

As for the other matter newly broached, "I can wear a mask, if you prefer." Either way was acceptable. Samara had no plans to let anyone get a good look at her in the first place, but if they wished a little extra protection...

The sudden arrival of another drew her icy gaze. A muscular man, Diedrick's movements did not go unnoticed. Urchin might be practically unknown to Samara and unabashedly criminal, but the youth was young -- there was time for change -- and was her employer for the night. What would it say if she allowed him to get killed under her very nose?

With Urchin's turn toward accepting the newcomer, Samara let out the softest of sighs as she relaxed in her chair once more. Butchering a man in public wouldn't do any better for their prospects than Móirne's earlier thought of decking Finnegan. The man looked like he wouldn't go down easily; likely tear up the entire common room in the struggle. Not the foot the job needed to start on; especially if he really was there to be part of the excitement.

Samara reached out to sample more of the drink poured no long hence for her sake. From what she'd spied back at the bar, Mute seemed content encouraging a little liquid courage before the job began. Likely to be a long night. Hopefully not one that'd demand she drink much of that which was not tart and crimson -- that'd only bode poorly for Samara later.

 

[Diedrick]

Diedrick stared at the small, struggling creature. Urchin's jumpy disposition compelled the taller man to snigger. "I was expecting someone more intimidating. I can't wrap my head around the fact that you, of all people, will be leading the drug heist," Diedrick spun his words out loud, unbothered by the presence of other people. He had plenty of time to meet them and would do so accordingly after he finished dealing with the Urchin, that is. "Gotta admit, you are a skittish fella, but don't worry, I won't eat you."

Urchin asked for Diedrick's name, prompting the large male to arch his eyebrow. He might've been an outsider, but Diedrick expected the would-be-employer to at least know the names of his employees beforehand. "Diedrick, Diedrick Rivandere of the Rivandere family. I'll spare you the further formalities." He turned into an ear while Urchin laid out the plan. Diedrick considered it for a moment, deciding whether it clashed with his usual modus operandi. After a handful of thinking moments, Diedrick found the ploy to be sound. It didn't take him long to decide that he would gladly roll with it.

It was only when the teenage boy mentioned drugs that Diedrick's nose scrunched up. Psychodelic substances weren't his thing. Generally, Diedrick found addictions to be abhorrent, especially the self-destructive ones. Nonetheless, money was money, and he wouldn't turn down the offer. After all, it was a chance to earn some easy cash by fighting against woefully underprepared foes. "Sounds good to me," chuckled the muscle-bound newcomer, patting Urchin on the back. A smile began to unfurl across Diedrick's features, rapidly transforming into a full-blown slasher grin. Urchin's compliment hit home, leaving Diedrick satisfied to know that someone recognized his combat prowess so quickly.

Diedrick detected Mute's intent, followed by the man's half-hearted attempt to unsheath his dagger. It made Diedrick snort playfully as he passed by. In that moment's fraction, he winked at Mute, intending to tease the speechless fellow. Finally, Diedrick settled close to Moira, pulling up one of the more durable chairs furnishing the tavern. Plopping onto it, Diedrick went limp, allowing his back to sink into the leather-bound frame. He briefly gazed at his co-workers, taking in their peculiar features and armaments.

Urchin
Mute
Móirne

 

[Móirne]

Móire retrieved the parchment from the table and haphazardly stuffed it back into her pocket. Mute had given it his stamp of approval. Unfortunately, she knew she couldn't pound Cheever's face beyond recognition if she wanted to keep her bounty. Truly regrettable.

"Oh, Mute says ya can wear masks if ya dun want nobody ta see ya... Ain't really sure what we could use fer masks though. I 'ear ladies stockings work real well, but they look fuckin' stupid."

Móirne snorted. Then, she shook her head. She was plenty recognizable even with a mask; the pink hair, purple eyes, martial arts, and electricity were all unmistakable. Móirne knew she was conspicuous. It couldn't be helped.

Trying to maintain dye in her hair was difficult, especially on the road. She wasn't any good at transformation magic either. Cloaks were hard to move in and made her sweat uncomfortably. Eventually, she'd given up trying to blend in.

"Till the end," Samara breathed as the tip of her finger traced its way up the side of the man's neck.

She turned her gaze away from Samara and Finnegan, lips pressed into a tight frown. Móirne was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Maybe it was just her; she'd had plenty of bad experiences with adult men when she was younger. Still, she couldn't help but physically turn away from them.

Instead, she focused on the new arrival. He was big, at least five inches taller than herself, with a bulky physique. She allowed herself to admire his muscles, eyes trailing over the curve of his biceps. Móirne wondered how long he'd spent conditioning his body. He was friendly too, but not in that overbearing flirty way that Finnegan was; a welcome change.

 

[alphabunny]

dibly muscular, judging by his bare arms and protruding shoulders. The stranger had moppy, hazelnut hair nearly reaching the length of his shoulders. His golden eyes scanned the area, taking in any notable details

What a dish, thought Rou from her spot at the bar.

and the amount of work they'd all be doing, the least he could do was buy the woman a drink for her efforts.

Rou understood, surprised mute by signing that she would organize everything and bought the keg, telling the bar tender what mute wanted. She didn't know if he understood sign language or not, but it was worth a try.

Her ears twitched as she heard new parts of the plan, then she saw Móirne show Mute a peace of parchment and sauntered back to the table, looked at the paper and her enitre face fell. She concealed her emotions the best she could and took her seat, finally answering Samaras question, "no."

And that was all she had to say.

 

[Milo]

Finnegan registered the new commer. A huge grin on his face concerning Urchin," you a funny little chap." He laughed.

What Finnegan noticed was Móirnes obvious discomfort, genuine empathy on his face. "Sorry lo-," he stopped and corrected himself. "Sorry Móirne, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
He scartched his head, never had Finnegan ever inteded for someone to feel discomfort in his presence, most felt peaceful, at ease and normally have a good time.

On the inside he enjoyed Samaras reply but now he rethought his pet name for her, he pulled his arm back from behind her and crossed them. In a low voice he whispered to Samara, "just let me know if you uncomfortable okay queenie?"


He looked to the new man, "Real name is finn," he gestured to Samara with a tilt of his head, "Queenie actually goes by Samara." Finn noticed Rou come back, "And thats Rou."

 

[Diedrick]

Diedrick blinked at their words. These were some kind-ass people, and he was beginning to enjoy it. Without making a fuss, he raised an arm, gesturing at the crowd of his newly acquired acquaintances. "You know my name already. Sadly, I couldn't find myself a proper nickname if my life depended on it," joked the muscular male, tracing the fingers of his free hand along the table's coarse surface. He smiled at them. It wasn't the kind of nasty grimace or a slasher grin Diedrick reserved for less-than-likable individuals. No, it was a kind smile, showing that he held a genuine interest in what they had to say. "Perhaps Didi? It doesn't quite fit a man of my stature, but you have to admit, it'd be a comical moniker."

For such an unassuming place, the tavern wasn't half bad interior-wise. Diedrick would've never expected it to be such, so the revelation took him by surprise. The chairs were cozy, the walls painted in warm colors, and most importantly, the lighting was natural. Diedrick had his fair share of dislike towards artificial light sources, especially magical ones. He couldn't explain why, but something about their eerie hues put him off.

And so he resumed observing until a peculiar sight stroked his peripheral vision. Out of the corner of his eye, Diedrick could swear that he saw Móirne gazing at his torso. Diedrick's orbs lit up with brilliance, their golden hue intensifying as he slowly turned around to look at her. Leering forward, he greeted Móirne with a cleverly concealed chuckle. "How rude of me. I forgot to address the one sitting closest to me," spoke Diedrick as his face became engulfed by a friendly aura. Of all the people present, she stood out the most. Diedrick couldn't tell whether it had something to do with Móirne's idiosyncratic attire or her electrifying ambiance.

Without a further delay, Diedrick extended his brawny arm towards her. His hand remained poised the entire time, anticipating an eagerly awaited handshake. "I take it that you are Móirne, correct?" It was more of a rhetorical question than a real one. Diedrick already knew the answer.

alphabunny
Finnegan Argon
Móirne

 

[Milo]

"Didi," he thought for a moment. "What you thinkin ey Urchin? Im thinking something more, well how can I put it....spicy," Finnegan chuckled he picked up Diedricks attention for Móirne, well well well. He smirked , wondering how this little thing would plan out.

 

[alphabunny]

Rou inspected this diedrick fellow, hmm...what was his story.

Regardless she looked between Finnegan and Samara, what in Alleria was sizzling there? She had to give it to Finn, he was confident, to her Samara seemend almost untouchable but something about her wanted pulled Rou in, she want to form a bond with this women, a friendship. Móirne seemed like quite a cool lady. Urchin was spunky but the person that interested her most was Mute, a man without a tongue but he had much to say. Did he know sign language? Rou had learned it as a child, her neighbor had a deaf daughter and Rou went out of her way to find a way to communicate with this girl and build a friendship. The girls mother taught her everything. If Mute could sign Rou thought that he would have a lot of interesting ideas and thoughts.

 

[Mute]

"Till the end," Samara breathed as the tip of her finger traced its way up the side of the man's neck.

Well, it looked like Samara and Finnegan were getting along. Just as well he'd paired them up together. His only worry now was that the two of them might get a little distracted waiting together under the docks... In the dark... Alone... Luckily now they had a new arrival to keep the pair of them company. At least until the job was over. After the merchandise was sold, the pair were free to whisper sweet nothing's into each other's ears to their hearts content. In fact, Mute had it on goof authority that the rooms upstairs were relatively cheap and rented by the hour. Mute only hoped they stuck around downstairs long enough for him to give them their wages.

"I was expecting someone more intimidating. I can't wrap my head around the fact that you, of all people, will be leading the drug heist,"

Oh, is that what Urchin had been telling people? Well, it mattered little who they considered to be in charge, so long as everybody stuck to the plan and got the job done. Mute was used to being overlooked. It went hand and hand with his condition. And besides, from what he'd experienced in life, keeping a low profile could be extremely beneficial. Something that Urchin could benefit from learning.

Diedrick detected Mute's intent, followed by the man's half-hearted attempt to unsheath his dagger. It made Diedrick snort playfully as he passed by. In that moment's fraction, he winked at Mute, intending to tease the speechless fellow.

Mute returned Diedrick's wink with a scowl. He wasn't nearly as trusting as Urchin, nor did he have much in the way of a sense of humor. Still, while the man could most likely crush the skulls of every person sitting at that table with his bare hands, he seemed friendly enough, and had no reason to turn against those who were paying him. Mute decided to let his guard down for now. There was no reason to start any trouble. Not that Mute could start an argument with the man if he wanted to. Not having a tongue could be a blessing at times. He'd certainly learned to keep his temper since losing it.

Rou understood, surprised mute by signing that she would organize everything and bought the keg, telling the bar tender what mute wanted. She didn't know if he understood sign language or not, but it was worth a try.

Well, this was certainly interesting. It seemed that using ones hands to communicate was not a language exclusive to the mute and the deaf. Rou had learned a language used to communicate with those that could not speak. Unfortunately, Mute did not speak any official form of sign language, and had more created a very simple set of gestures that he used to communicate with those who knew him most. After all, he rarely had opportunity to communicate with other folk that were deaf or mute, and those he associated with were unlikely to take the time and effort to learn another language unless there was trade or business to be made. It intrigued him that this young lady who clearly had no speech impediment herself possessed the knowledge to communicate with those who did. He wondered who had taught it to her, and why she had taken it upon herself to learn. Perhaps she had a loved one who could not speak? Or perhaps she simply had a kind heart and so made an effort to communicate with those less able than herself. Either way, he wanted to find out.

After Rou had finished speaking to the bar tender, Mute made a few simple gestures that should be simple enough to understand. An X with his arms, a hand by his lips and finally an imitation of one of the signs she had made. "No speak sign" was what he was attempting to communicate. Whether she understood it or not was down to luck.

"Sorry Móirne, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Well, that was a relief. Mute didn't want there to be any form of bad blood between the group. The seven of them needed to get along and work as a team... Even if it was only for a few hours. Then they could do whatever they wanted. It was none of his business.

 

[Urchin]

"I can wear a mask, if you prefer."

"Up ta you. I ain't wearin' no mask, but them I ain't gonna be clonkin' no 'eads together, so ain't no one gonna see me." Just as well. Urchin wasn't particularly talented when it came to head clonking. Sneaking around and causing distractions, that he could do.

"I was expecting someone more intimidating. I can't wrap my head around the fact that you, of all people, will be leading the drug heist,"

"Ah, that ain't me," Urchin corrected his new acquaintance. "Mute over there is the brains 'hind the operation. I'm just the translator... Sorta." More like he did his best to interpret the gestures that Mute was making, and Mute either nodded his head or face palmed accordingly.

"Gotta admit, you are a skittish fella, but don't worry, I won't eat you."

"Ah good, I wouldn't recommend," Urchin joked. "All skin an' bones. No meat on me. Wouldn't taste nice."

"Diedrick, Diedrick Rivandere of the Rivandere family. I'll spare you the further formalities."

"Die Dick?" Urchin asked with a raised eyebrow. Wow, what an unfortunate name. This guy's parents hadn't done him any favors. Sounded like something some angry bastard would yell after Urchin as he ran away with their coin purse.

"Sounds good to me," chuckled the muscle-bound newcomer, patting Urchin on the back.

"Nice!" Urchin cheered happily, resting his arms behind his neck as he leaned back on his chair. "One big 'appy family... 'Course we'll be even 'appier after we get out big, 'appy payout!" Then there'd be drinks aplenty for everyone!

Finnegan registered the new commer. A huge grin on his face concerning Urchin," you a funny little chap." He laughed.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Urchin said happily, though it was just as often an insult as it was a compliment.

"Perhaps Didi? It doesn't quite fit a man of my stature, but you have to admit, it'd be a comical moniker."

"Didi... I like it!" Urchin declared. "Guess ya can call me whatever ya like. Urchin's much a nickname as anythin' else. I also get Red, Runt, Brat, Half-Pint an' Oi, You, Gimmie Back My Money Ya Cock-Suckin' Bastard! Any works fine."

"What you thinkin ey Urchin? Im thinking something more, well how can I put it....spicy,"

"Ah, okay!" he said thoughtfully, quite enjoying this new little game the two of them had created. "Well, if yer Baby Cakes... Maybe 'e could be Beef Cakes?" Urchin suggested. Probably not the smartest suggestion to make to a man twice his size and built like a brick house, but he seemed to have a good sense of humor, so Urchin doubted that he'd take offense... Even though he noticed Mute audibly sighing at his suggestion. Poor guy just wanted to get the job done, and here were Urchin and Finnegan distributing nicknames to all of the party members.

At that point, a couple of the tavern staff rolled over the big keg of ale that Mute had purchased. "Ah, nice! More booze!" he declared happily, holding his glass underneath the faucet about to pour, when Mute sternly smacked him across the back of the head. "Ow!" he snapped irritably. "What?" But then a lightbulb suddenly went off in his head. "Oh, I get it, this here is fer the folks down the docks, right?" he asked, to which Mute nodded in agreement. "Now... All we need is a little special ingredient... Queenie," he said, turning to Samara. "Got any idea where we can our 'ands on that sedative ya was talkin' 'bout?"

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara wasn't invested in establishing Universal Truth, or else she might have been tempted to correct Diedrick's gross misconception of authority. Urchin was leading a drug heist? She was confident Mute was leading the heist, but equally confident Urchin could pull his weight... so to speak. The waif didn't have much literal weight to him, unlike the slab of muscle that sauntered in desperate for pretty woman to lather him in oil. For fun, not because trying to cuddle up with an oil slick was enjoyable.

Not long after, while Urchin corrected the misconception himself, Finnegan seemed to have an eye for Móirne distaste for his -- or their -- antics. The man seemed to have practiced his demeanor considerably to so easily turn it off or at least dial it back a great deal. He drew back, which caused the Elf to straighten up in her own chair and unwind her hand from about the man's neck; Samara left it resting atop his nearest shoulder as her icy eyes regarded him.

"If I were uncomfortable, I would let you know." A brief smirk pulled at her lips for a moment. "I've killed many a monster in my short time in this world. I can handle this." Probably best the man's character emerged. If all he showed her was the confident pretty-boy Samara might have been tempted to drain him dry when the mission was over. Not that she would have unless he tried something truly unwelcome.

Slowly Samara turned her head to watch Diedrick out of the corner of her eye as he rose to approach Móirne. The fiend that haunted her every moment seemed oddly attentive. A trickle in the back of her head.

A keg was soon rolled over to them that sparked a brief exchange between Mute and Urchin. Seemed an typical exchange between the pair. Then the youth asked a question that drew the Elven woman to glance over at Rou. The clip response earlier hadn't gone unnoticed. Slowly her fingers slid down to her waist to gently squeeze a small bottle out of a concealed pocket in her jacket. Samara held it aloft between her thumb and index finger for a moment for people to view the violet fluid within. "They going to be needing this, Rou, or should I give this to you?" Even if they didn't dump it into any wine, ale, or even water the no-nonsense woman could use it to coat arrowheads or daggers.

Actually, despite the difference in age, Samara wondered if Rou might know some interesting contacts that would be of use later. Samara was still getting acquainted with a complete reversal in her life's course -- no longer quite Elven, no longer quite the 'good guy,' and no longer a mage. The last one had taken a lot of time coming to terms with. Learning new skills from those more experienced lurking in the shadows was welcome; because unlike mages such people rarely committed all their secrets to a tome.

 

[Milo]

( literally urchins comments leave me rolling)

"If I were uncomfortable, I would let you know."

"Good to know Queenie." This answer allowed Finnegan some relaxation, but he could see that Móirne was not one to enjoy public displays of affection...or it could be the simple fact that him and Samara had just met. Regardless, something about the women intruged him.


Finnegan watched Diedrick out the corner of his eye, he wasnt much a of a fan. The man seemed pompus. If he looked for a fight Finn wouldn't step down, his muscles might not be the same size and herculeses over there but he could hold is on. Finn was quick on his feet, slick even. He had even fought a dark elf, now that one was quite the test. Finnegan emerged the fight victorious but with a massive cut that developed into a prominent scar leading from his shoulder to wrist on his left arm. Most people didn't see it, his classic brown leather skin jacket covering it majority if the time.

 

[alphabunny]

Rou understood mute when he told her he could not speak sign language, but she was a determined young women. She would teach him, one way or another.

From now on, when she spoke and Mute was in company, she would sign as she spoke in hopes he would pick it up.

"They going to be needing this, Rou, or should I give this to you?"

Time to put her thought of teaching mute sign language into action, when she answered samara she made sure to look directly at Mute instead. "Add it to the ale," she spoke and signed slowly, looked to samara then back at mute. "We can give the keg just like that, better he doesn't know what exactly we are making use of."

Rou went quite for a moment...a potion like this could come in handy in the future, when things setteled she would make sure to pull Samara aside, asking her where Rou could get more of this sleeping draught.

 

[Móirne]

"Sorry lo-," he stopped and corrected himself. "Sorry Móirne, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Móirne nodded and forced her face to relax. It wasn't Finnegan's fault that she saw only saw other men when looking at him, the men that had made her so uncomfortable back in her youth. She tried to soften her eyes. Móirne could only hope that he understood her intentions.

"How rude of me. I forgot to address the one sitting closest to me," spoke Diedrick as his face became engulfed by a friendly aura.

Móirne smiled and made a noise of acknowledgment, her own hand extending towards Diedrick's. She gripped it firmly. Unlike Finnegan, he had a distinctly different personality than those men of her past. It made it much easier to relax around him.

"Yes," she said. "Nice to meet you."