Arikarka
Approved
Linked Characters: Citrine, Gigi, and Rhia
Posts: 316 
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Post by Arikarka on Jan 25, 2019 15:51:39 GMT
A stream of grey-blue smoke rose into the air following the exhale. There, leaned against an alley wall, was a woman of average height wearing thick boots, baggy pants, and a zipped up leather jacket. Unseen, a chain shirt was stitched into the jacket's lining, giving her protection without worrying about being seen meandering around in armor all day. The cigarette was half-way burned, she'd been posted here for some time it would seem - the joint was thick enough to not be smoked through in just minutes. It had a smell to it, the smoke that is, of brown sugar and cocoa. The alley itself was wet, dank, and full of kicked up slush and muddy snow (what was still left of it). The cobblestones were unkept, cracked, and splitting apart. The left torches and covered lamps flickered with barely enough oil or peat to keep alive, and citizen's shutters were all closed. Everything was dank, and dark, and musky, and dirty, and… home. At least to her. A hood was pulled up over her head, shielding her fading pink hair -she'd have to color it again soon, the blonde was starting to show more than she cared for- and giving a bit of warmth to the half of her head that was shaved down to a men's style. The shortness on one side was more than made up by the length of the other, falling to well past her shoulders in a decently cared for loose cascade. In this cold? All the metal in her face, her lip, eyebrow, ears, and buckle around her neck didn't do so well. But it wasn't the worst thing either. Biting her lip to tug on the silver ring on the bottom lip Gigi took another drag of her cigarette and opened her eyes. A warm gold, the warmest thing about her, harshly lined in black - making it even harder for the care to come through. She lifted her head and cupped her left hand over her mouth to mimic the sound of a morning dove. The sound turned out right, despite the oddity that was her arm. Made of magic shaped metal her arm looked like that would belong on a golem or suit of fine delicate elvan armor. The dull sheen had life in it, despite there being nothing natural about it. A morning dove's coo responded back - nothing strange about that, they were a type of bird that mated for life, always traveling in pairs. Grunting Gigi thunked her head back against the wall. Seriously, what the fuck were they doing? She took a longer drag of her stick. "Heeeey Pix. Sorry about this." A man's voice deeply whispered as he crept from around the corner - a set of thieves tools in his hands. "It's taken ah bit longer than expected. But we're all good." Taking her cigarette out and tapping it with a metal finger Gigi rolled her eyes. "Sure, sure. Take your time. It's not like it's nearing proper morning when everyone and their mother's will be walking the street soon." Her voice was delicately female, roughened not as much as you'd think for how much she smoke, but managed to sound like she'd fit right in a jazz lounge. "Now fly, Ass, before we get caught. I'm not having Nine throw me under the bus to Momma again because you fucked up." The younger man grinned sheepishly and ducked back out into the shadows. “And tell Ghost he’s not as stealthy as he thinks!”Really, taking on the Fledglings like this was going to be the death of her. Not Nine and her constant practical joking that often lead her into serious trouble or almost trouble. Not Arlo and his easy-going nature that often lead her into the strangest rock-and-a-hard-place scenarios. No. It would be the new recruits who couldn't even pick a lock unless someone was holding their hands. How some of them managed to make it pass the initiation she had no idea. Not that she was much further down the lineup than them… but she had a history with the Birds backing up her title of Juvenile, or 'Juve' as they slanged it. Juveniles - a bird still in its juvenile plumage. This plumage is held only briefly for many songbirds (just a few weeks after leaving the nest) or up to a year for some larger birds like hawks. Not yet an Adult (the next step she was working hard towards), but defiantly not a Fledgling - or a Chick for that matter - Gods - she shivered. She'd been lucky, she was already in decent standing with the Birds as their go-to fence of a healer before she'd ever joined. It made her adjustment of living in… well… comfort to… well… home here, a lot more manageable. But if she'd been stuck as a Fledgling for as long as some of the Birds here? She'd go mad. The Fledglings had the boring jobs…. Not that Juves had it better. Juves watched them, to be sure the Fledges didn't screw up. Adults though? They got the first wave of good jobs. So here she was. In the rising rays of morning, keeping watch for a Fledg who was told to get from point A to B without being caught. Bored out of her flipping mind. Keeping an eye out for anyone walking by the 'decent' area of the slums of the Trade's Ward. And if someone did? Strike up conversation or whatnot to keep them unsuspecting.... yeah... like she was good at that. Another stream of cool-blue smoke rose out from between her lips as she jammed her other hand into her leather jacket. It seems she'd been here a bit longer than expected. |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Jan 29, 2019 4:25:32 GMT
And one such lost individual was Arioch. He had absolutely no concept of what a slum was or what the difference between the wards was or what was this or what was that. Not that he had any money whatsoever to get worried about some thieves stealing from him, and currently his most priced possessions were four javelins and a greatsword, and those were pretty hard to take away from him without him noticing. He was dressed in a mixture between leather, cloth and fur. His height could hardly be called impressive, being about as average as a common girl and his youth was currently being hidden behind a fearsome mask that covered most of the lower part of his face.
It helped to make him not look as lost as he really was. He wondered why the place seemed to be looking more and more run down the more he walked, had the architects became lazy or something? Why would anyone live in such a mess of buildings and... and what was that puddle? The mask hid his expression of distaste, as he frowned at it. People looked at him like he was, a stranger, but he wasn't concerned. There was no one he wasn't certain he could cut in half should any problems arise... Not that he wanted any to show up. He was lost, the city was big.
And thus he wandered into an alley, whose only denizen seemed to be a stranger inhaling some kind of herbs on fire. Why would anyone do that without a pipe, he wondered. It seemed... dirty. No, dirty was not the word. He couldn't quite find the expression he was looking for. but the feeling certainly was there. He shot a glance from up close when his movement brought him close enough and saw the colored hair, the... things on her face. No wonder he chose to wear a hood.
He stopped cold in his tracks for a moment. His head turned to the side. He thought he had heard something.
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Arikarka
Approved
Linked Characters: Citrine, Gigi, and Rhia
Posts: 316
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Post by Arikarka on Jan 29, 2019 18:22:13 GMT
Her eyes caught movement down the road, someone clearly who had no idea where they were. Or what area of town they were in. People who lived in the slum area also knew who lived here. Strangers were a sore thumb - for multiple reasons. It was always the strangers who caused problems. Strangers who could be anyone in disguise. Strangers who were… honestly? Just strange. The slums were their own sub-community. Guards and Watches usually stayed out except for the mandatory positions (clearly noted by the Pigeons and Watchbirds who kept a keen eye on how the rotation patterns changed throughout the seasons). Passerbys usually only traveled in clear daylight.
But this person? He was a stranger, clear as day, traveling in the wee morning hours.
Mango had said there were to be no one going 'undercover' this week - and her premonitions and augury skills were nearly unmatched by anyone else. It's why this week there was an increase of Juves taking their Fledglings out about the town, less risk of getting caught.
Their eyes met, Gigi giving a simple nod upwards of greetings. "Sup." She said as he stopped as if hearing something. 'Fucking hell Ghost, why now of all times to screw up?' Intending on pulling his attention to her and drawing him into conversation she took another drag of her cig and exhaled, and pushing off the wall of the alley she'd been leaning against with a sharp shrug of her shoulder. She went bluntly right to the point, jazz lounge voice nowhere near as smooth as professionals. It was harsh around the edges, jagged. Impolite. She whistled a high-to-low pitch, evaluating his looks and 'lost' ness. "New around here, aren’t you." She wasn't one to talk much, unless it was to taunt and insult someone else... She wasn't the leader or encouraging type. Generally? She had one job, and one job only. To keep others alive and kicking still and say 'f-it' to death.
His mask was a curiosity, his weapons even moreso. Not many traveled with fucking javelins. Who did that? Snorting at his attire choice and taking another puff and exhaling the blue-grey smoke the healer tapped the ash collection with a practiced flick of her fingers and tap of her wrist on top of her left arm. Only the metal hand of her left arm could be seen outside of the jacket. "What's up with the mask?" Her attempt at small talk.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Feb 2, 2019 5:57:07 GMT
Arioch regarded her as if she was trying to sell him used condoms, a mixture of shock at her appearance, mistrust of her general intentions, and with a underlying, morbid curiosity underneath. Last not but not least there was also the fact that he had thought her to be a man at first glance. This girl was speaking to him when everyone else had mostly just left him to his own devices. Finally someone was getting around to talking to him, but... It seemed odd, the way she approached him. An ambush? No way. That was how far his own suspicions and sense would take him. He didn't reply at ther question about him being new as he was still asessing whether it would be a good idea to reply or not when she commented on the mask. This he replied almost instantly.
"It is a warrior's mask" He said almost puffing out his chest, his stern and fierce look above the mask hiding his blushing face underneath. It was no such thing he was just wearing it because he thought it looked cool, that was the extent to which it was a "warrior's mask". He wouldn't ever admit it however, as it would be embarassing to say so, specially in front of a total stranger. No, absolutely not, from the day he first wore it up to right that moment it had been, was, and would be a warrior's mask. Still and just as if someone had caught him lying now he felt like he should kept talking for some reason.
"From the laughing skull clan" That was another lie as big as a house but in his mind it made it sound more legitimate, what were the odds that these folks on the other side of the world had even heard about the clans from where he was from. Not an icicle's chance in hell. He hoped. Otherwise everything would come crumbling down immediately, like a card-tower made out of lies. Immediately he gave in to more honest impulses and pointed out at the metal on her hand. "What is that?" He said as upfront as anyone can be when making a question and also pointing it out right in front of said person. His voice also was not by any means quiet, secretive, or cautious. He was plain and straightforward. And there was not a single thing about the being in front of him that did not call to his immediate attention, from the color of her hair, the decoration on her skin, whatever herbs she was inhaling and to top it off the strange armor on her arm. He was positive he had never seen anything like that. But then again, he had never seen anything like anything since setting foot on that city.
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Arikarka
Approved
Linked Characters: Citrine, Gigi, and Rhia
Posts: 316
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Post by Arikarka on Feb 3, 2019 3:43:25 GMT
Matching his aghast look with an impassive nonchalant huff of uncaring Gigi brought the cigarette to her mouth again for another lungful of smoke and tobacco. The looks she was getting from the masked man weren't anything she was unfamiliar with. In fact? It was so common it would have been more strange had he not stared. The slum side of the city had handfuls of 'weird' or unkempt looking people - he was the stranger here, not her.
"Warrior's mask, huh?" It wasn't quite as patronizing as one would speak to an over exaggerating child, but it was close. Punctuating the confirmation was a long blow of smoke, the blue grey mist taking no special shape or form - just a stream as it slowly was released from her lungs. "Neat.....Impressive." Really she didn't care one whit about if it was what he said it was, or whatever this laughing skill clan was - she'd save her curiosity for when she was off the clock and the lives of two others weren't her primary goal.
Tapping the stick on the metal top of her hand, the sleeve of her jacket bunching upwards to show that the metal continued to her wrist and beyond, ash fell to the ground to mix with the rest of the filth. "My arm." She commented dryly, sarcasm reflecting how stupid she thought the question was. "What else does it look like?" Rolling her shoulders so the jacket settled back to a comfortable fit Gigi walked a bit closer towards the mask-wearing boy. "Enlighten me." She taunted, walking slowly with a lazi-fare attitude, other hand slipping into the waist band via the thumb - the rest of the fingers sitting on the bare skin under her jacket. It wasn't a grin or a smile on her face… no, that'd be too generous. It was part sneer, part self-entitlement, and part taunt. All bitch.
Some might say that people like her, those with a blatant attitude and a disregard for those around them, was a sign of a tortured soul being hidden by bad-ass attitude and a 'I don't give a shit' mentality. Those same people would be wrong. Georgina? She truly was a bitch - particularly towards those she didn't find worth her time or effort. Sure, there were people she held in high regard, but they were few and far between.
She was now only a few feet away from the stranger in the slums. Her tongue couldn't help but flick up to swipe across a canine tooth as she grinned in an unnerving way. "Never seen a prosthetic before then?" She questioned, trying her best to make the situation as uncomfortable as she could. Why? She wanted to. And really… who liked having a disability called out on? Dick.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Feb 3, 2019 18:14:57 GMT
Arioch frowned at the comment of the flamboyant woman, it wasn't the kind of attitude he liked to get. Something was off but he quite couldn't tell what it was yet, because it was a situation that rarely if ever happened. He felt as if she was going to try an sell him something yet... Or if she was stalling for something. The thought of being robbed crossed again his mind and he checked his corners making sure there was no urchin ready to ambush him, no brute ready to drop a rock on his head from behind. What was this girl's deal, he wondered? Why would she strike a conversation with him if she seemed as engaged as a corpse?
The barbarian wasn't particularly perceptive, nor insightful either, but even in his culture people respected the very basics of human interaction and this had remained true for the most part of his experience with the so called civilized lands, in spite of them being a disreputable anthill, in his opinion. He did however take a look with interest, and a bit if caution, at the girl's metallic arm. Now that did seem like something quite out of the ordinary, like an armor that blended in perfectly with her skin. It was the strangest piece of armor he had seen, ever.
"Armor" He replied. At the time he was crossing off things that she was not, while figuring her out. She definitely was not a prostitute; not while dressed like that she wasn't. And then that train of thought paused for a bit. What if she was? What if around these parts that was what was considered attractive and coin-worthy? No, he discarded quickly, no it wasn't otherwise he would have already ran into something that looked like her and frankly nothing did. And if she had been some kind of popular figure around there would have been at least a few bodyguards around, with another name.
When she asked about the prosthetic he replied, plainly. "What is a prosthetic?" A metallic arm, naturally. He wondered if the soldiers of the city would wear that kind of armor all over their bodies, but in that case why was this girl only wearing her arm piece? Was that all she could afford? Why hadn't he seen more people wearing full body plates like that? It looked... Neat. Not that he would actually wear any of it, given the chance. It slowed him down, it took a long time to put in and take off, it weighed you down when you needed to swim. And if you per chance were to fall off? Even a short distance would be enough to mess you up even worse than if you had been wearing nothing at all.
No, he was reassured his own honed instincts were the best defense possible. For the time being at least.
He was tense. One hand reached out slowly to his back, passed alongside his shoulder and reached the handle of his blade. His green eyes stared into her's, listening to what she was saying but expecting danger to come out any time soon. Why else would she engage him in a conversation she had no interest in? Either she was going to sell him something, while being the worst seller this side of the ocean or she meant to keep him in his place. He didn't mind. He could use the challenge. He wanted it, to measure up against the folks of this land and see how he did.
He would be upset if the ambush ammounted to throwing heavy stuff at him from the ceilings or trying to poison him with small blades instead.
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Arikarka
Approved
Linked Characters: Citrine, Gigi, and Rhia
Posts: 316
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Post by Arikarka on Feb 6, 2019 20:52:29 GMT
She stopped moving closer when she was about 3 feet away, well within striking distance but seeming completely non-phased at the suggestion. "It means I don't have a real arm, and instead have this." She shrugged her shoulder, where underneath the jacket the melding of flesh and metal would have been had the limb been bare. "Can act like armor, sure, but it's more an actual arm." There was a flat joke and play on words there. Arm. Armor. She blew out smoke angled just to miss going right into his face.
Her eyes flicked up to see his arm stretching above his head. She's seen the start, process, and aftermath of enough battles and fights to know where his mind was at. "Oh calm down kid, you're not getting jumped." She dryly reprimanded him. "You see any weapons on me?" Gigi lifted both arms up and spun slowly - showing there was nothing to be seen. Of course her jacket was zipped up still, but it was cold. Her shoulder ache enough as it was in the winter, she'd not expose it to the air naked if she could help it.
Snorting mentally to herself Gigi was counting down to when she should hear a bird call back signaling they were done. Having to talk and distract a judgmental assholes like this? Just because she looked like someone who was part of a gang who'd jump anyone and everyone didn't mean she was. Appearances were deceiving, it's part of the reason the Little Birds dressed and acted as they did. Kept them safe. A bad-gang reputation kept rivals from coming after them, or lone wolf types from trying to take over.
Arms flopped down, spent ash knocking from the tip of her cigarette front the force of the thrump down. Lifting it to her lips again she took a drag, finishing the last puff she could draw from it in one final inhale - only to exhale this time the blue grey mixed with a vibrant lime green tinge mixed all throughout. A bit of a glowing light shimmered out from the sleeves of her jacket - something had lit up from inside.
"So, what brings you this way? because, really you're not in a good part of town - must have taken a wrong turn. Looking for the trades alley? Market? Maybe a decent inn?" There was still a heavy layer of disinterest, but gang tenants were the law. At least offer help when it seemed it was needed. "You really don't look like you know shit of what's going on around you."
Unzipping her leather jacket then to reach into the breast pocket for a new cigarette, a series of winding vines were tattooed across the flash of collarbone seen above her crop top, ending underneath the rather thick dog-like D-hook black collar she wore around her neck. There might have been more, tattoos that was, but she didn't leave the zipper undone for longer than it took to pull out a new tightly rolled smoke stick. She stuck the unlit cig in her mouth between her lips, held up her metal hand, cupped the fingers, and muttered a sharp, almost insult sounding word. In an instant green sparks lit and ignited in her hand, setting the cigarette to burning, then vanished. Shaking her hand out as she puffed in then out to get the burn under control she finally looked at the kid again. "Well?"
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