RP:Unburying the Truth
Part of the The Cenrilian Connection Arc
Funeral Parlour
Around this room are various examples of coffins that are available to buy here for your recently departed. Towards the back right of the room are examples of grave markers. In the middle of the back wall there is a glass counter, behind which a tall man in a black suit is dressed. He has a calm quiet manner about him, and a comforting smile on his face. On the counter are several lists, giving the prices of the coffins and markers. To the left of the counter there is a dark wooden door, which a bronze plaque upon it. As you look closer it says clearly upon it 'Chapel of Rest'. This must be where the bodies of the recently deceased are kept for their loved ones to visit them until they are buried.
Kasyr , though generally more well suited to endeavours that were of the 'kick-down-a-door-and-go' nature, is not without a certain capacity to use more subtle means to get around, his earlier (mis)adventures in Vailkrin having helped to refine such talents as a necessary means to 'not die' & 'continuing to not die'. Skills which enabled the revenant to acquire a part-time job in a rather shady line of work, and the likes of which are now being practiced as he works his way through the rooftops and alleyways of Cenril. As situations go, it was rather delicate- given the Revenant's ongoing 'investigation' had provided him a list of potential suspects/sources of information, all of which were located within the damnable port city, which beyond being engaged in an ongoing and politically tense situation with Vailkrin, also had individuals in authority who were potentially (likely?) complicit in what was being investigated. It's only when the revenant reaches the next location on his list that he slows down, a glance cast behind him as he takes refuge near a chimney- using the shade provided by what sparse moonlit existed to adjust his current outfit. For 'business' purposes, the Revenant's typical outfit had been discarded- in favour of a black trousers, a long sleeve shirt, gloves, and a healthy dabble of charcoal smeared across his features and run through his hair. Sure, the guild provided a shadow-laced disguise- but it was always good to fall back on something more mundane, because magic wasn't infallible.
Jelko isn't far behind, a blend of shadow and moonlight upon the rooftops. Boots bring her padding to a halt beside Kasyr, expression unreadable behind her mask as she regards him. Without a word gloved hands reach out to further smudge the charcoal on his face and spread it over his distinctive calico ears. "Honestly, wouldn't hurt to wear the Asharam mask," comes the cool remark, muffled by mask and hood. But anything further she might have had to saw is interrupted by a clatter from the alleyway below, a sound that causes Jelko to drop into a hasty crouch and press closer to the shadows. Beneath their perch is an elderly feline upending a crate into a trash bin, half of the contents spilling onto the ground without him seeming to notice or care. From under the trash bin, a rat's mangy head pokes out and gnarled teeth sink into the dropped garbage, only for the rodent to squeak in distaste, release its catch, and slink back into the darkness. Wood scraps are not edible, even to the rats of Cenril. The coffin-maker's garbage is never worthwhile pickings.
Kasyr isn't wearing the goggles at least, which in tandem with his essentially grubby darkened appearance, just makes him another feline footpad at a glance- especially when his companion finishes smearing what remains of his generally distinctive appearance. Though he squirms a little, he overall takes it in stride, offering a slightly clipped, "Noted, in future." Given the ties he'd been attempting to foster with that house in particular, they'd likely not give much of a damn- as long as he didn't do anything -too- unseemly. Whatever the case, those thoughts are dispelled by the din below, though the revenant does not move to investigate- leaving that to Jelko while he keeps an eye out for any of the nearby avenues leading to that location- lest someone move to investigate. Only when he notes a decided lack of interested passerbys, does he gingerly tap Jelko's shoulder, and make a faint gesture downwards.
Jelko nods once, rolling her shoulders before creeping forward to the edge of the roof. Perched there like a furred gargoyle, she peers down on the alleyway as the elderly man goes about his business. Another two crates of wooden scraps are emptied before he hobbles back inside the building, absently closing the door behind him--or would have, were it not for a whispered word from Jelko that urges a portion of the alleyway puddles to rise up and freeze, thus holding the door open an inch. Glancing over her shoulder then, she nods at Kasyr and drops off the edge of the roof to land in a deep crouch on the cobbles below. Hugging close to the walls, the little assassin shuffles aside, making room for her companion while peeking in the door to ensure they have no surprises waiting on the other side.
Kasyr , unburdened by his trenchcoat, follows suit - though he's slightly more gradual in his descent, choosing to partially hang off the rooftop before releasing, thereby further minimizing what noises he makes. A precaution the revenant deems necessary, given he's never been quite as light footed as the feline. Once on the ground, he begins to follow in Jelko's wake, though rather than take up a position behind her, he chooses to clamber over towards the opposite side of the door, providing him a different field of view from his companion. Once situated, his right hand moves down to his belt, to slowly lift open one of the many pouches that reside there, and pull clear a blackened piece of metal- a scalpel that had been treated in a similar manner to his face, and now rested at ready. Still, it was not necessarily guaranteed the kensai would need to use it- given that his empathy enabled him to sense emotions, and thereby give a fairly decent approximation of an individual's location. Something which the revenant is able to use to signal a moment when the elder feline has moved what he seems a suitable distance from the door.
Jelko waits for the signal before easing the door open, care taken to avoid all but the faintest of squeaks. ...until one of the hinges decide to protest loudly despite her efforts, causing Jelko to go rigid and cock an ear toward the building's interior for approaching footsteps. Kasyr is likewise given a look, and she waits a moment longer before continuing, hoping the squeak was either missed by elderly ears or written off as one of the many rats occupying the alley. Boots tread upon the floorboards with all the lightness of a cat as Jelko pads down the hall and pauses at the first doorway, pressed close to the wall as the edges her gaze around the corner. A pantry and storage room awaits, housing various dried goods and living supplies, but nothing of obvious interest as Jelko shakes her head and gestures for Kasyr to follow. There are a number of rooms to stick their noses into down this hallway before they'll reach the funeral home's main parlour room, where the old man can be heard sweeping and humming uneven tunes to himself.
Kasyr is somewhat out of practice, a trait which leads to his progress being markedly slower than that of his (debateably) more felonious companion. Thankfully, her pauses enable him to make the distance between them less disparate, something which enables the revenant to make a few clear gesticulations between Jelko, and the room across from the kitchen, something which the revenant than follows with a brief motion between himself and the next chamber down the hallway. Once that's sorted out, the Kensai begins to creep forward, slowly inching out into the hallway. Every so often, the old mans' tune falters- something which cues the Kensai to slowing his movements, and yet, his sweeping remains relatively consistent, and the tune tends to resume fairly promptly. A pattern which inevitably ends with the Revenant's hands upon the door knob to the chamber he'd chosen for himself. A careful turn of the knob reveals it to be unlocked, and the revenant slowly begins to creep inside- only to halt when he comes face to with a variety of odds and ends. ...A storage closet. Kasyr can't help but purse his lips slightly at the find, though he does at least endeavour to pursue this particular area of investigation a little bit further, nosing his way just a little bit deeper into that area.
Jelko, like Kasyr, is keeping one ear trained on the owner's humming and sweeping, poised to react should it falter for too long or come too near the hallway entrance. Focused as she is, the assassin tiptoes into the room Kasyr had pointed out for her, pace slowing to a halt mid-step when the nearby humming pauses. Jelko remains frozen as such, standing on one foot and glancing around the room as she waits for the tune to continue. A kitchen, by the looks of it, with stone walls and a banked fireplaced, a heavy oaken table in the center, and an array of sharp and capable tools hanging above it. A flicker of disappointment lurks behind the mask. No, it wouldn't be in here either. The old man's melody resumes then, causing Jelko to sigh in relief and lower her foot... directly onto the tail of a cat that had been soundly sleeping beside the dying fire. With a hissing yowl the animal launches itself into the air, limbs sprawled and fur on end as its offender stumbles backwards in silent surprise. A thunk brings Jelko's back against the entrance wall, followed by the clatter of wooden spoons hanging just above her head, the cacophony enough to make even the half-deaf old feline down the hall stop, listen, and begin a shuffling trot toward the kitchen. "Missy?" he calls out in a ragged voice as the tabby cat streaks past him, tail a bottlebrush of indignant feline rage. For a moment the old man hesitates, torn between following his cat, and investigating the noise she'd made in the kitchen--his back to half open storage closet.
Kasyr jerks up at the abrupt noise, quite nearly jostling into a small pile of tools resting against the wall - though he's able to catch himself in the act, instead tensing up with such ferocity that he actually feels sore for a moment. Slowly, he turns in place, his grip upon the scalpel tightening as he makes the first tentative creeping step towards the door. It's only when the old feline passes close to the door and turns his attention elsewhere that the Kensai allows any of the tension in his form to begin leaving. Though there is a brief temptation to simply resolve the matter as swiftly as he can, the revenant resists the impulse- instead fishing into one of his pockets for a copper coin, which he then carefully flicks through the opening of the door- to click against the ground and hopefully bounce into the kitchen. Hopefully, the old man might mistake it for some errant coin that fell free from his pocket- though at the very least, the revenant hopes that it might serve to coax the Old feline into choosing which direction he ought to go.
Jelko is silently berating herself while pressed flat against the wall in wait. Self-harassment ends, however, when a coin rolls and bounces into the kitchen, followed by the shuffling gait of the old man. Positioned where she is alongside the entryway, Jelko goes unseen as the elder enters the kitchen and she's swift to slip around the corner the moment he stoops to collect the coin. Careful to be on the look out for cat tails this time, she hurries down the hall toward the storage closet as the old man mutters to himself, "Missy, what did you get into in here? Stupid old beast. Always knocking about the good utensils." Similar grumblings continue as the feline exits the kitchen, patting his pocket, and carries on back down the hallway. He pays no mind to the closet as he passes by, the door securely closed as he had left it earlier--Jelko having squished herself in alongside Kasyr with a finger held to the front of her mask in a hushing gesture.
Kasyr would normally have no complaints about being wedged in a closet with Jelko, but there's rather unfortunate circumstances which dissuade him from taking advantage of the situation to harangue her as he might normally- thus replacing the normally playful tension that might exist with the more proper anxiety related to discovery. In and of itself, it's not the event that bothers the Kensai, given that the outcome is almost foregone- and yet, there rests the complicating factor of potentially losing a witness/source of information, of tipping their hands to their opponents, and a simple dislike for the lack of necessity for such an outcome, compounded by his desire to prove he's still quite capable of errands like this. It's in this manner that the revenant waits, an odd sort of anxiety simmering about his form as he waits for the old man to resume his work, so that they may resume theirs.
Jelko would be holding her breath during this time, if undead needed such things. Breath or not, however, the tension of waiting is still potent enough as she presses an ear to the door. In time, the sound of sweeping can be heard again, followed soon by the discordant humming, and Jelko gives a nod. Easing the door knob, she guides the door open enough to allow herself and Kasyr to slip out into the hallway once more. Just one more room remains to explore here, directly across from the closet... but if what they seek is not there, the duo will have to find a way around the old man, in a large, central room that's clearly well-lit, the illumination seeping around the edges of the partition and into the hall.
Kasyr follows Jelko to a degree, if only to split off from her position and creep his way over towards the outskirts of the room the man was sweeping, the Kensai merely pressing his back to the wall, and focusing both his ears and empathy upon the elderly feline- devoting himself to the simple task of keeping an eye upon the funeral parlour's caretaker. In the meantime, he simply gestures at his partner with his offhand, signaling that she's free to go- though his hand rests poised in case the caretaker begins to stray too closely to where they're positioned. For more than once that evening, the revenant can't help but be immensely grateful he's undead- almost positive he'd be sweaty, charcoal-y mess by this point (as opposed to just charcoal-y).
Jelko creeps into the final room once she's eased the door open without--thankfully--a single squeak. But once she's inside, the kit is sticking her head back outside the door to voice a tiny, "Psst" to Kasyr. A jerk of her head is given, urging him to follow her, into a considerably larger room than the rest. Judging by the bed, trunk, and wardrobe against one wall, the desk, table, and handful of chairs at the other, and the large, flame-less fireplace, this room serves as the office and bedroom of the funeral home's director. It's the likeliest place to find a log book, but Jelko obviously needs Kasyr's assistance if they're going to search through everything in a timely manner. She has a sneaking suspicion the portraits on the walls conceal more than one hideaway or safe, and the desk carries more drawers than should be legal for such a piece of furniture. This room is a treasure trove and a nightmare all in one, for a thief.
Kasyr gives one last glance over towards the eldery feline before he casually begins to creep back towards the door Jelko had emerged from, a process that's made slightly slower by the occasional pause and glances the kensai makes due to his partner's earlier mishap with the house cat. It's only when he reaches the door that he properly rights himself and steps inside, the Kensai taking a moment to make similar observations as Jelko did in regards to the room, albeit with a bit less intuition towards secret hideaways, and a bit more appreciation for the overall cozyness of the chamber. Really, it'd be enough to coax an appreciative whistle out of him, if he was a bit more slow in the head. Instead, the revenant simply starts at one end of the room and slowly begins to search, checking about the fireplace in search for anything that might be stashed along the mantle-place, with a little bit of focus placed into his empathy in case he might be able to detect an errant focus of emotions, perhaps something which might hint of anxiety, or desire, or a sense of meaning, which might linger upon a place frequently handled. And really, such an endeavour does in fact hit pay-dirt, if his intention was to run off with a small lock box cached behind a brick, and full of gold. Which, given it doesn't, has the Kensai pushing it back into a place with a quiet scrape that's too loud for his liking, and leads him instead towards a gradual tracing of his hands across the walls, as he makes his way towards the desk.
Jelko, under other circumstances, would have declared Kasyr the worst thief to end all thieves, leaving a lockbox behind--but she also wouldn't be one to talk, as she managed to trample a cat's tail while stealthing about. This is business, not greed, however tempting. Thus while Kasyr searches around the fireplace, Jelko begins with the desk, skimming the paperwork on top, scanning ledgers, and then moving onto the drawers when nothing obvious catches her eye. The first two are nothing but junk, bits and bobs, odds and ends stuffed into a haphazard order and left forgotten. Another is devoted to such a wide array of quills that Jelko wonders if the proprietor is an avian fanatic. Ink wells, blank paper, more innocuous ledgers, a few socially questionable paintings of avian women--yeah, definitely a fanatic with a side order of fetish. And finally, a lockbox, squat and narrow, well suited to housing a tome. Lifting the box from its drawer, Jelko sets it carefully upon the desktop and leans down while a hand peels her mask up a small degree. A single ghostly exhale of breath and the lock frosts over, an audible 'clunk' sounding from the metal mechanisms inside that have crumbled with the cold. Another 'psst' comes from the director to Kasyr as her fingers trace the box's lid and gently lift it. ...Jelko sighs. More avian imagery, an entire hoard of it, and this time without any attempts at being tasteful. "Someone puts pleasure before business, clearly."
Jelko eyes one of the paintings. "Is it even possible to bend your spine like that...?"
Kasyr casually leans over Jelko, before offering a faint shrug, and a quietly muttered, "You can always keep it in mind for reference, Cherie." That said, however, the revenant simply works his way past Jelko, taking a position up near the bed, if only to begin searching it. The results are equally sad, the underside of the bed revealing a combination of more pictures, and a rather profilic stash of penny dreadfuls- the likes of which wading through reveals very little of, beyond some correspondence with someone in Schezerade that he could have gone without snooping through. Really, it's only after the Kensai moves to tilt the mattress up a bit in search of anything that might rest underneath, that a leather bound book begins to slide clear from its resting place beneath all the pillows. "..."
Jelko is resealing the lockbox when she glances up to see Kasyr uprooting a mattress. As the leather book reveals itself, she cocks her head to one side, ears folding back beneath her hood. "I'm almost afraid to check what's in that." In fact, she'll leave it to Kasyr, turning around then to begin peeking behind the portraits serving as the desk's backdrop. As suspected, one houses a niche carved from the stone, inside of which is an insignia-bearing pouch that stinks of old decay, half-melted crimson candles, and-- Jelko steps back to give Kasyr a view of the length of thick gray fabric in her claws. Before she can comment on the scarf, however, the jangle of a bell and closing of a door can be heard from the front of the building, followed by the muffled sound of a greeting from the old man. Stuffing the scarf back behind the portrait, Jelko slinks to the door, cracking it open and peering out. Shadows move on the other side of the partition, one clearly the bent form of the feline and the other tall and slender, cloaked. Their heads are bent together in inaudible conversation, prompting Jelko to lean further out the door in an attempt to eavesdrop. And she nearly loses her balance when the proprietor suddenly speaks up, voice echoing down the hall, "Come, come, m'dear, I have wine in my office. We can speak there." Time to go, Kasyr.
Kasyr , having found nothing of value from moving the mattress (beyond a less obscure view of the various avian related literature beneath, is more than happy to return it to the manner in which he found it- though this does leave him the solemn duty of checking through the leather bound back. It's with the crisp creak that the bindings open, and yet, what greets the revenant is not more vintage sleazy rags, but numbers. Dates, details of orders, clients, specific notations, costs, fees, net earnings. Without any hesitation, the revenants fingers begin to trace through the pages- seeking out a proper date when.. there's that bit of anxiety coming from Jelko that has the Kensai staring up at her, the scalpel wielding hand flicked up and pointed towards the door, before he makes a brief glance in the direction which they came...and the underside of the bed. Apparently, Kasyr was leaving it as the guild leader's choice.
A Cenril City Watch Patrol marches in from the north.
Jelko is making her choice, and is halfway out the door when a rhythmic metal clattering can be heard from the other end of the hall, where they'd left the back door open. Shadows move past the door in an orderly fashion before being abruptly halted by an ordered shout. Cenril City Watch patrolling through the alley have spotted the door left ajar, which leaves Jelko and Kasyr caught in the middle, with the building owner on one end of the hall, and a guard patrol on the other. Scurrying backwards, and narrowly missing being seen when a guard looks inside, the assassin hurries back to Kasyr and shoves him in the direction of the bed. "Quick. Guards," she hisses, not wasting any time in dragging herself into the shadows beneath the bed as near to the wall as she can manage.
Kasyr follows suit with little prompting, though no small amount of dread- the revenant not wishing to play the role of a captive audience to certain potential outcomes. Nonetheless, professionalism demands he follow- and so he simply makes due, sidling underneath the bed in the same manner as Satoshi, though he at least able to put some of the books he ends up sharing space with to use- by shuffling them so he's able to move closer to the center, whilst they serve as a partial form of cover. All the same, the kensai can hardly be blamed for any discomfort felt, something which has him gingerly nudging at the ring on his right hand. Outside, he can't help but hear the brief but brusque knock of one of the guards, shortly before the click and clank of their armour begins to grow closer. Suffice to say, it's not like the caretaker and companion can fail to notice this, something that has the elder feline's feet padding down the hallway to meet them.
Jelko edges closer to Kasyr as she listens with perked ears to the exchange between guards and owner. Although the door separating them is closed, and thus stifles the voices, it is still clear that one side is brisk and stern in their questioning and the other is flustered and alarmed, certain he had closed the door earlier. Naturally, at mention of this and then recollection of his pet's earlier alarm prompts the guards into action, armored boots heavy on the floorboards as they begin sweeping the kitchen and pantry rooms. It's only a matter of time before they reach the office and search under the bed. Aware of this, Jelko nudges Kasyr lightly and whispers in his ear, "Casper happen to be in your bag?" Bootsteps re-entering the hall announce the search of two rooms complete. The guards won't spend long looking in a storage closet, either.
Kasyr hadn't really bothered to check, as the small white cat essentially chooses to come and go at her whimsy. Still, the revenant's not against checking- something that has him wriggling over just enough so that he can reach over to his backpack. What's curious, is whilst he remembers it being of normal dimensions earlier, and wholly empty- it now contains that same spacious void it typically does. The sort that has him fumbling past loose bits of stale cookies, vials of unknown concoctions- and inevitably happening upon a mass of fur which decides to introduce herself to the fray by hopping out from the pack and staring fixedly at Satoshi. Patiently, like she's waiting for something. Kasyr, for his part, just nudges her a bit to the side so she can patiently wait in a spot that doesn't prevent him from leaning back down- his mind still focusing upon the methodical movements of the guards outside, "...I'd rather -not- leave a house full of corpses, though, if they aren't drained, et the valuables are taken..."
Jelko said to Kasyr, "We're not going to..." The words die then, the door being opened and the boots of four guards entering their line of sight. Jelko tenses, a sense of preparedness rippling through her, one hand clenched into a fist and raised. As the first guard lifts a foot to step, the little assassin brings her fist down directly on Casper's tail, a barely whispered apology accompanying it. With a screech the cat bolts out from under the bed and straight into the guards, the first one set off balance and toppling into the rest so that the whole lot of them come crashing down with a uniform cry. No more than a blur of white, Casper streaks over the heap of bodies, down the hall, and out the door, her passing followed by curses and shouts. Voices rise higher as the guards attempt to disengtangle themselves from one another until their captain closes in, delivering swift kicks to backsides and heads, along with barked orders, "Get up, you idiots. It was just a bloody stray snuck in! On your feet, back to our route! And you," the growls, whirling on the shaken old feline and his cloaked companion, "Keep your damned doors bolted. Wasting our time on strays, I outta toss you in the stocks myself."
Kasyr could have sworn that the damn cat actually -scowled- at him on her way out, but he's too busy looking at the clustered mess that's the guardsmen as they rise to their feet. Their emotions are a mess of shame and ire, the likes of which is only echoed in their muttered apologies and acknowledgements to their captain as they fall back in line behind him. The feline's feelings are similar enough, a fair bit of anxiety tied into the matter, and yet his companion is fairly stoic through it all. Whatever else follows the exchange, the Kensai can't discern the details with Empathy alone, or what bits of spoken word and ankle high vision provide him- save that the guard captain seems satisfied enough (mostly with his threat), and make their leave with about as much abruptness as they had made their arrival. It also seems to be providing an opening, as both the feline and his cloaked companion seem to be following in the guards wake, likely intent on shutting the door behind them.
Jelko tenses once more, making ready to scramble out and head for the door. However, a thought stops her long enough to glance sideways at Kasyr. "Question them?" She'll give the kensai time to debate and answer while they free themselves, Jelko keeping both ears trained on the doorway, tracing the sound of solid boots and light shoes heading toward the backdoor. The pair could make a break for it out the front through the parlour, or they could ambush the feline and his companion for an interrogation...
Kasyr rolls out from underneath the bed, and begins to stride towards the door on the balls of his feet, his response coming in a very simple form- the scalpel being directed towards the bag that Satoshi had liberated from the room. From there, the Kensai simply proceeds to drop the book into his backpack (It's proportions weirdly proper and vacant once more - unstable as ever), before he steps out from the room. Even as the caretaker and his companion are in the process of closing the door with a resounding click, the revenant's already slipping into the kitchen, his back pressing up against a wall to obtain partial cover. Clearly, he was more than ready to try and figure out what the deal was.
Jelko follows close on Kasyr's heels, only to split off and dart into the pantry opposite the kitchen. When the door's lock is driven home, Jelko uses that sound to cover the metallic shink of her gauntlet's blades extending into ready positions. Now armed with three lengths of 'claws' over each fist, the little assassin hunkers down and waits for the caretaker to shuffle past. She trusts Kasyr to be in a similar position on the other side to neatly flank the pair. A cough and throaty chuckle comes from the caretaker as his unsteady gait carries him past the doorway, commenting to his companion, "Blessed thing they didn't search the off--" Like quicksilver Jelko darts forward then, claws coming up and around the unsuspecting feline's head, one set poised to pierce his eyes while the other presses uncomfortably close to his throat. The old man can barely manage a squawk of alarm as his words die, for the simple movement of his neck draws a neat line of blood in his furred flesh. "I hope you're feeling chatty, whiskers," Jelko purrs into his ear, silver claws edging closer as she navigates the old man to face in Kasyr's direction.
Kasyr's actions are marvelously synced, partly owing to the empathic connection he shares with the lithe assassin- allowing him to round the corner near the time that tension peaks and she bursts into movement. Without any degree of hesitation, the Kensai falls into step behind the cloaked figure, one of his arms sweeping around her (confirmed) body to hook beneath her arm, essentially being used to at once draw the limb up into an uncomfortable position while his fingers cup her mouth. A movement that also serves well to lean her into the tip of the blackened scalpel which finds itself neatly balanced against her jugular, a small mixture of charcoal and blood forming at the very spot where the metal grazes flesh. Whereas Jelko is talkative, the Kensai is not- simply moving himself and his hostage so that the feline's now trembling companion is in full view of him, allowing the caretaker a full view of the faint track of murky crimson now dribbling down her neck. It's enough that he feels a sharp, hysterical intake of breath against his hand- something that coaxes him into clenching her face hard to pre-emptively muffle the shriek that would otherwise have formed. "Don't."
Jelko's claws keep their firm grip on the feline, preventing the elder from squirming so that he's left half-arched backwards and at the mercy of the smaller stranger. At the angle he's placed in, he can see nothing of his assailant, only made away of the sharp pricking of claws, the warm breath (courtesy of an enchantment) on the back of his neck, and an unnatural void where a person's scent should be. "Now then," Jelko murmurs, voice as equally devoid of identifying marks as her lack of scent, "I have some questions for you." Immediately the feline tenses, prompting Jelko to tighten her grip and click her tongue in a scolding sound. "Best cooperate. See my friend there? Holding your friend? Every time you refuse to answer my questions to my satisfaction, he's going to remove one of her fingers however he chooses. Believe me, you won't like his methods. He's twisted. When we run out of fingers, we'll start getting creative. Either of you make a move to alert the guards, we'll end the matter on the spot. Otherwise, if you behave, you can walk out of this with your lives intact. We got a deal?" A whimper from the feline suffices as agreement in Jelko's book, encouraging her to continue. "A coffin made of Rythal Olive. Built one recently? At whose request?"
Kasyr , despite the fact that he's currently keeping the mysterious cloaked woman 'hostage', is more focused upon the caretaker than anything- the revenant staring fixedly at the man in an effort to gauge both the physical and empathic tells which might divine whether or not he's telling the truth. An eerie display that's made all the worse as the Kensai slowly begins to dance the scalpel down from the woman's throat, small droplets of crimson left in the wake of its every movement as the revenant works his way along her collar bone, and towards the womans free arm. It's enough to coax the woman into a wild swing of her arm. and yet all the earns her is an abrupt face forward trip into the wall- the sudden shock enough to cause an abrupt surge of motion from her back, the reflexive arch of an avian's wings, before it's quelled by the sudden proximity of the scalpel to the corner of her mouth. One terrified eye glances up to the revenant, a look he doesn't meet - instead choosing to redirect her face towards the wall and drag her upwards, so that he can more easily pin the arm that had flailed earlier, the scalpel now dangling above it like some diminutive Sword of Damocles. The caretaker, by this point, is a pale mess of on-end fur, tears, and trembling, but he manages to get the words out, "Yes. Gods, yes. I made one." He started to nod, if only to stop, going stock-still, "The, the- it was a special order. His holiness Avantine. H-he, it was on his orders th-that I made it. I-I." The revenant's hand casually swishes to the side, a thin track of scarlet painting itself atop the Avian's fingers and eliciting a whimper from both members. "Please! I'm telling the truth!"
Jelko brings her face nearer to the side of the feline's head, a movement that, despite her being masked, gives him the impression of a wolf's bared jaws inches from his throat. But no bite comes to the sagging feline, only a soft growl, "I don't have many questions left, so we'll be removing two fingers for every lacking or false answer now. What became of the coffin? Have you been ordered to make more than the one?" Yet even before Jelko gives the caretaker a chance to babble an answer, she's dragging him toward the avian woman, shoving their faces closer until all they can see is the fear reflected in each other's eyes. "Last question will cost her those pretty eyes: What are your ties to the Nathali?"
Kasyr can feel that mixture of terror and hesitation burdgeoning within the caretaker, and yet even after all this, it doesn't quite compare to the brief moment after which the Nathali are mentioned, his eyes glistening with some indescribable terror that's only matched by his companion's frantic, helpless confusion. Somehow, the elder feline manages to form words, ragged breaths drawing out the answers in the wrong order, "The one. Only... only the one. But I didn't know what they were. Not when I started making it. I was only warned later, when they gave me the scarf to wear it when they came to pick it up, with Arcturio and the others. They were there too- and it was such blasphemy. Avantine told me not to talk, so when they came i just listened, and listened." As his rambling begins to grow more and more inconsolable, the revenant abruptly flicks the knife upwards, the tip all but on the verge of piercing through the avian's iris. It's enough to drag the feline partially out of his hysteria, "I pass messages! Through the coffins, for the N-Nathali and the church." Even as he starts to tear up further, the revenant isn't satisfied, "Who is Arcturio, who were the others and where did the Coffin go?"
Jelko finds her grip marginally compromised as the feline becomes more and more hysteric, his old bones trembling to the point that the assassin's fingers are growing numb. It's due to this that she hisses in his ear, "Answer quick, old man, you're testing my patience with your blubbering." With the words come three fresh pricks of blood on his throat, a physical reminder of where the caretaker stands. Another shudder comes from the old feline before he continues, voice rising and falling without control, "A-Arcturio is of the Church. Paladin. Anti-v-vampire. He was with others in the gray scarves, matching t-tattoos, all human. I don't know for sure where the coffin we--" Claws sink deeper, cutting the denial off with a yelped, "VAILKRIN!! They were taking it to Vailkrin!" Peering over the feline's shoulder, Jelko lifts her gaze to Kasyr and cocks her head, silently asking, 'Anything else to ask?'
Kasyr gives her a very slight shake of his head, in response to the unspoken query- the scalpel flicking away from the avian's face, though not straying away from her neck. Rather, it simply looms there, dancing between the kensai's fingers as he awaits word from Jelko. Whilst he'd normally take point, given the subject of the investigation, it's nature of it that causes him to hesitate and wait for her decision.
Jelko accepts the shake of the revenant's head as answer. "You've been most cooperative, thank you." A wet 'shink' follows the words, Jelko's claws slicing across the caretaker's face in the same instant she shoves him away so that he stumbles and drops to his knees with a cry. Shaking hands press to the trio of red furrows carved into his cheek, but Jelko ignores him, stepping toward the avian woman instead with squared shoulders. Before the cloaked figure has a chance to cry out or squirm against Kasyr's grip, Jelko's clawed gauntlet is thrust up into the woman's ribcage, hand given a twist as it's withdrawn in a cascade of blood. "We're done here." With this, Jelko turns on a booted heel and begins striding down the hallway, only pausing when the old man splutters, "Y-you said if we cooperated, we'd live!" Blood running in rivulets off her claws to splatter on the newly swept floor, the kit cocks her head over her shoulder, the tilt of her mask telling of a smirk beneath the ceramic, "I lied."
Kasyr relinquishes the woman as she goes limp, his expression carrying a brief glimpse of pity before it simply glosses over back to his neutral facade. And yet, the sigh the revenant gives is not one of a morose or pitying nature, but indifference and irritation- "Condolences." Before one more pitiful shudder can tear through the elder feline's body, the revenant's fist impacts into his face, contorting the flesh of his features with the power of the punch. Even restrained, it's enough to send the man crashing to the floor, by which point the Kensai heaves him over his shoulder. "The scarf. We're leaving a message in the casket." Without any further ceremony, the Kensai steps over the still twitching body of the nameless avian, making his way to the display room with the caretaker's limp form. Alive or dead, they were sending a message.
Jelko deviates from her original path to return to the office, where she retrieves the scarf, candles, and peculiar smelling pouch. All of which are brought to Kasyr once the feline has been placed in the display casket. Without haste, she arranges the candles around his head and ties the scarf in position, finally lifting the little pouch and peering inside. "Tsk tsk. Someone keeps trophies of his customers." By way of explanation, Jelko up-ends the bag's contents onto the feline, a rain of finger bones from a variety of races, all in different states of age. Each bone has been carved with runes common among Vakmatharas worshippers, and painted red to stand out against the yellow and white of the skeletal pieces. He may not be a member of the Nathali, but the old feline is clearly passionate about their shared deity. Finished with the arrangements, Jelko leans against the side of the casket to fix Kasyr with a look, "Things are about to get active, hm?"
Kasyr's expression is more bemused than anything, his shoulders lifting up subtly, "I don't really judge. Much. Vraiment, he seems like quite the collector." That all said, the revenant simply sets the casket closed- careful not to jostle Jelko's lovely display, before he begins to move towards the kitchen. From there, he simply takes hold of the cloaked avian's body, and begins to drag it, leaving a sanguine streak running from the hallway into the 'Chapel', her body sprawled out in the midst of the chapel room, one of her arms dragged forward so it was outstretched towards the coffin the caretaker inhabited. A bloody handprint on the lid, courtesy of the revenant's lack of squeamishness, is made to ensure the guards investigate. From there, the Kensai simply steps over the mess he made into the kitchen, by which point he simply makes a point of searching for a few things of preserved fish from the pantry, and some other odds and ends, and sets them aside in a bowl on the floor. It's only when this is done that he makes his way towards the front door, "Exit, stage left?"
Jelko exits stage left. Along with an amused comment in the magus' undisguised voice, "Compassion for a tabby cat, after arranging a murder scene~."