RP:Business as Usual
Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc
Summary: With Raphalqne's music as a backdrop, Langley tempts Talene and strikes a deal with Iintahquohae.
Hanging Corpse Tavern
Talene occupied a corner table, keeping her back to the wall, the chair's back leaned to the wall. Stiletto in hand, she cleaned her nails with deft movements. One chestnut peeked out from under her slouchy cap, behind one rounded ear. Occasionally, emerald sights lifted up in the direction of the door with mild interest when she heard someone entering or leaving. Legs crossed over one another, one foot bouncing to an idle rhythm.
Iintahquohae can be found affixing another advertisement for her tailoring business on the board, conveniently over any advertisements posted by competitors in her trade. She clicked her tongue and frowned at the ones she covered up. Torrador and Ventra. They needed to be stamped out for good.
Raphaline finds herself wandering into the dark lands. Since being back, she has not dared to cross the bridge and head west, choosing instead to stay east. It seemed easier to remain among the sea and bar and the dark. She wears her usual travel leathers and forest green tunic and her red curls braided back and down her back. The smell of earth and dark liquors invade her senses as she pushes open the door and heads first to the bar. “Tall whiskey,” she asks as she sets down her violin case next to the stool.
Talene 's emerald sights lifted from the duty of personal grooming, to the woman newly appeared at the bar, and another posting advertisements over some others. Squinting, she was able to ascertain that the woman was a tailor and jewelry, unable to help but smirk as she glimpsed it covering similar ads. Nice. She would've done the same. The violin case of the former had her stare lingering for just a moment, a glint of admiration in her green eyes. If a barmaid happens close enough to her, she'd flag them down with a wave and utter her order, " Wine, please." Her voice held little to no accent, nothing in her tone was particularly unusual, at least not enough to draw much attention to her
Iintahquohae took a step back, pleased with her handiwork. Covering them up would do for now. Ripping them from the board if they resurfaced would be the next step. Unless… The seamstress peered over her shoulder to get a glimpse of how many people nearby were even paying attention to the board, then shrugged the thought away. Her work was better and she knew it, and promptly began taking anything related to House Torrador and Ventra off of the board. A neatly folded pile of advertisements began to grow at her feet, soon to be fed into the fire.
Raphaline seats herself on the stool and while she waits for her drink, she takes a look around at the company in the bar. She notes the two women before turning once more back to the barkeep and obtaining the whiskey. In between the sips of whiskey she works on placing her violin case on the bar counter, popping the latches and then tuning the strings. With half the glass gone she finds her mood persuaded even more so to play. She moves over to the piano and casually leans against it as she begins to move the bow. The melody begins slowly, deeper notes full of darker longings and whispers from among the shadows. As the song begins to wind further into the melody, the bard straightens her stance as her band begins to sing the sharp notes from the instrument.
Langley was plainly ensnared in a dour mood, a rage that had festered all night long and most of the day until it became that of seething hatred and contempt for a certain someone. Much of his ambition was so close at hand that he could practically taste the glory of victory upon his lips and that snivveling do-gooder threatened to undo it all with his simpleton's dream of righteousness. His crows were not nearly as noisy as they normally were, each flying in through an open window to land upon his shoulder and whisper into his ear their gutteral song before fluttering away when he would nod curtly and dismiss them again. The desire to put an end to this foolish game was so all-encompassing. He had been obsessing over it, ringing his fists and glaring at walls; contemplating with ceaseless vigor at how best he should handle the situation. He needed a distraction. Something. Anything. He had sworn an oath to her and as much as he wanted to break that oath and as certain as he was that sabotaging that silly relationship would ultimately only serve to benefit him and her both, his word was his bond. Finally, fists slammed down onto the table as he sat up straight from his glowering slump; those hands quickly going to adjust all the usual places... glasses, tie, cuffs and jacket. "Step right up!" He announced in that smooth sophisticated drawl of his, "Langley is open for business. Who wants their dreams made manifest?"
Talene wasn't expecting the slam of fist to worn wood, her wine nearly dropping from her hand. Bristling as she shook the ringing from her ears, she took a long draw from her drink. The bard's song drew her attention, giving it the respect of her audience for a moment before rising from her seat. Cloak was draped over the back of her chair, boot heels thumping a soft cadence along the floor towards the gentleman. " Bold proclamation to make." As she had passed, the pile of ripped ads didn't slip her notice, even making a mental note to check what was so important as it had to be posted before she left tonight.
Iintahquohae knelt to scoop up the ripped fliers, paying little to no mind to the what went on around her. The music was wonderful, but she assumed the violinist didn’t need to be told that. After an adjustment of her glasses, she turns in time to spy Langley and hear his announcement, but remains in place. A once over is given. The seamstress raises a brow. That jacket…yikes. Instead of approaching the man, she voices her “dream” from her side of the room. “How about a better quality jacket for yourself. I could make you one.”
Raphaline continues to play for a bit longer, languid and carefree about her performance. As the song comes to an end, she allows her green eyes to move towards the gathering of people. His pronunciation tickled her in a way that she couldn't help but snicker to herself. Not too interested in this wish granting, she turns back towards the bar and the whiskey still waiting for her. "I'll put in for another, please," she asks. Carefully she sets her instrument in its case but does not close it. Instead, its the dark indulgence of liquor first.
Langley eyed Talene as she passed by, his serpentine eyes examining her from behind his rose-tinted glasses; drinking in every detail his mystical augmentations could find. "Not much that can't be done if you're willing to pay the price." He tipped his glasses down just a bit to give her a glimpse of the corruption held within his eyes. That was one tidbit of information that he gave for free. "And something tells me you know a thing or two about the trade business, sweetheart." He added as another of his ravens took up roost upon his shoulder. He nodded to the bird and it fluttered off again. His attention then turned to the other one, the seamstress; his glasses returning quickly to their proper position as he acknowledged her presence. "Really now, and here I was led to believe this was the finest quality money can buy." He gestured with a wave of the hand towards the chair across from him. "Enlighten me, dove. How could you do any better." He had sought out distractions and it seemed that the universe was intent to provide. For a moment, anyways, Langley's sour demeanor had been thoroughly lifted and replaced with a fair bit of interest and intruige. The music was not too bad either, a fair improvement over the usual broody tones this tavern tended towards.
Raphaline shuts the violin case and downs the rest of the whiskey glass. As for the second one, she takes up the glass and adds a couple extra silver for it before slipping from the bar with glass and case in hand. On to the next gig.
Talene 's cheeks dimpled softly as she grabbed a chair at the table, spun it around with a flick of wrist and straddled it. Arms crossed over it's back, leaning her torso against it. " I've picked up a trick you two, you might say." Wine glass was pressed to those smirking lips, emerald sights meeting his own, one brow twitching upwards in notice; interesting. She never knew corruption to make a phyiscal manifestation so that gleam in his eye seemed just that. A gleam. " Then you'd know the importance of staying ahead of the game. If you can help me with that-staying a step ahead-then, we have something to discuss."
Iintahquohae pressed her lips into a thin line in effort to keep herself from scoffing, and headed the strange man’s way. Veering off of her path toward him by a few steps to reach the fireplace, she silently chucked the offending fliers of the two houses into the flames and watched them burn, mostly to stall for time while Talene spoke with Langley first. With that done, she took up Langley’s other offered seat beside Talene. Now across from him, the seamstress regarded him with a smile she reserved for potential clients, then lifted a gloved hand and pointed at the door. “Out there,” she began. “Have you looked at that sky? How seamless it is, even after that…calamity that ripped a hole in it and rained chaos down on Vailkrin? You have me to thank for that. If I can spin time into thread into thread and sew the sky shut, I can assure you that I could make you a better jacket, no – I could make you an entire wardrobe that could rival any tailor’s work in Lithrydel.” Iintahquohae paused to consider talking herself up even more, then offered her hand. “Iintahquohae Oohjmaeyik of House Azakhaer, at your service.”
Langley listened to the seamstress's pitch with enthralled interest. It was always fascinating to hear another business person's sales pitch and hers seemed to almost rival his own. Almost. When she had said her piece, Langley remained quiet for a time, hands balled up against each other and two fingers extended to press against his lips; adopting a well-practiced stance of thoughtfulness. He did not accept her hand, not yet. A hand shake was the sealing of a deal and their deal had not even been made yet.. "Supposing you made me a wardrobe to rival all others, I am certain you would expect due compensation." He had seen how she handled those fliers, the contempt that she clearly felt. Oh and how her soul absolutely dripped with ambition, its color the hue that his once might have been in the days prior to the corruption that now darkened it. "Granite pillars do not topple easily, my dear. One needs the strength to push them over. And it helps to have a few friends to help you push." He stared her down behind those red-tinted glasses. It was not safe yet to speak so openly of coups and insurrection so he could only hope that she caught his drift. "Gerald Lawrence Langley, likewise at yours, pretty miss."
Iintahquohae ‘s eyes lit up. She knew upping her offer from jacket to a full wardrobe might grab more interest. …And she caught his drift, so much so that she had to force her facial expression to remain neutral instead of an obvious acknowledgement that any onlookers might catch. She matched his stare with her own. “I suppose I could use a few friends, Mister Langley. With all of my house gone by the looks of things, I think it’s time that I moved into a new one.” His attire is given another long look while she folds her arms and rests them on the table. “So, what are you looking for as far as clothes go, Mister Langley?”
Langley cracked a bit of a smile, a slight tugging at the corners of his lips to relay his amusement towards the woman. It seemed that they were clearly speaking the same language and his subterfuge had not gone saling over Iintahquohae's head. "It can be no mere mundane affair, I suppose, considering what I am offering you. And if you are half as talented as you say, I wager simplicity would be an insult to your skill." He leaned forward and rested an elbow upon the table, resting his chin on the knuckles of his fist as he contemplated the matter; brow furrowing above his glasses in thoughtful fashion. "I am told that dragon scale and hide wear quite comfortably and retain a fair bit of magic to boot. And in my line of work, it would probably be in my benefit to wear something with a bit of lasting durability."
Talene was quiet upon her entrance, making a beeline for the bar, murmuring something about blood wine before the barkeep obliged. While the gentleman and lady she'd seen last night were conversing, she made it a point to try and gracefully down as much as she could in as little time as possible. After three glasses were consumed, the rigidity gradually loosens from her spine, adjusting her cap with a clearing of her throat.
Iintahquohae nodded. It was as if a miracle had been dropped into her lap, if what this man hinted at was something he could actually follow through with. While cautious with most of her work, the seamstress had no qualms with throwing caution into the wind if there was something in it for her. Fortunately for Langley, this was one of those times. She let that part of their conversation drop at his mention of dragon scales and their hides, only to nod a second time, eyes practically glittering. One of her favorite materials to work with, but terribly hard to come by. “You’re right. I’ve worked with both. Different scales have different qualities, as you might guess. They can offer you a bit of protection and are a lot more subtle than wearing some armor underneath your clothes as well, if that’s a concern for you.” Digging her heels into the floorboards, Iintahquohae scooted back in her chair a bit and freed a few buttons of her overcoat. She pulled the material back enough to reveal that inside of her coat was completely lined with red dragon scales, each painstakingly sewn into place to replicate a living dragon’s hide. “I get cold easily.”
Langley did not seem to indicate that he was at all aware of Talene's presence when she entered but hidden behind the dark red tint of his glasses, those eyes of his followed her for a moment. "Well," He chuckled, his attention quickly returning to Iintahquohae so that he could admire the glassy red scales that lined her coat. It was truly magnificent, a work of art. And Langley knew a thing or two about art, as it so happened. "If this truly is your handiwork then I have no reason at all to find these terms agreeable. And provided that you deliver on what you offer me, I will ensure that when next you push on those pillars..." He extended his hand, flames kindling at his fingertips and slowly consuming his hand up to his wrist; their hue a toxic, venomous green that cascaded its virdant light across the table. Those flames gave off no heat though but the flesh on Langley's hand became cracked, the skin parting to reveal something scaley below the flesh. "They will fall. Shake my hand." It was not issued as a request. Langley's normally casual demeanor becoming suddenly one of grim determination.
Iintahquohae flashed a smile. “Of course it is mine. I only wear the best – anything made by my hand.” Her movements slowed while buttoning up her coat as she found herself entranced by the flames and light produced by Langley’s hand. Her facial expression was impassive, save for her eyes if Langley looked. Gears were clearly turning in her head, and for a moment she hesitated. Not out of fear, but what may also come from this deal. Everything came with strings attached, the seamstress knew. What could his strings be? Her hand lifted to take his after she removed a glove to do so for curiosity’s sake, but before her fingers closed, she added, “I only hope that the pillar that replaces them will surpass them in ways I would find beneficial.” A statement only. Not part of their deal unless Langley wanted it to be. She grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake.
Langley clasped his fingers around her hand tightly, his other hand reaching forward to press against the other side and hold that hand firmly within. Those green flames spread to consume Iintahquohae's hand and his other as well, glowing brightly at the center of the table like some wicked lantern. The flames wavered and weakened abruptly though, dimming until they faded entirely. Smoke fluttered off his hands as he pulled them away, his touch leaving upon the girl's flesh a brand; a cirle formed from intertwining tentacles filled with runes and dark symbology. "Big things are coming, sweetheart." he commented as he admired the palm of his hand, the fissures in his flesh slowly healing back up of their own volition. "That glyph is my gift to you. When the time comes, and it will come, you need only hold up that hand and I will deal with the rest."
Iintahquohae expected pain to accompany the flames and instinctively winced, free hand shielding her eyes from the light, but was pleasantly surprised that she felt nothing. The brand Langley left behind left her puzzled, and she held her palm close to her face to further inspect it. She only needed to raise her hand. Grinning, she shifted her gaze to Langley. “This is quite a gift, Mister Langley.” With a pause and amused laugh, she tugged down the collar of her overcoat to reveal the metal choker around her neck – metal that had been worked to look like a tentacle encircling her throat. “The imagery is fitting for me as well. Thank you.”
Langley rose from his seat, taking another long moment to adjust all the proper places. Collar, tie, cuffs, sleeves. Each were meticulously attended to. While he might be getting much nicer clothing very soon, that was certainly no excuse to allow his current attire to fall by the wayside. He did, after all, have appearances to maintain. "Someday maybe I'll even show you why my glyph looks the way it does, sweetheart." Langley said coolly, that jovial smile of his returning to his face. Whatever anger he had been feeling prior to their meeting, it seemed gone now. Surely, it would return later but for now Langley's spirits were once again high. It seemed that so many things were falling so perfectly into place. "In any case, we will most assuredly be in touch. I will be wanting to collect the materials for my new clothes as soon as possible." He reached up to grab the brim of his bowler and tip it towards Iintahquohae. "You take care of yourself now, you hear? We can't have you getting roughed up before your big day."