[DFRPG] Fair Play

[Astro_sol]

Zelda

The house was as close to home as she could get, although the idea of "home" was always in a sort of flux for Zelda. Sometimes she longed for forests, and sometimes she longed for the houses of the so-called "Victorian Era". As she caught sight of Mr. Black, she wondered why she couldn't just have one built back in the Nevernever. Or in this world, somewhere close to the border. Did it really matter?

"Mr. Black!" she called out, raising her dress so she could make a quick trot towards him. As she approached, she caught sight of the woman in the car next to him. "Good day to you, Miss," she said with a quick curtsy. "I'm Zelda Cartwright. I'm a-" don't say wizard, "fair supervisor." She waited for a reply as she eyed Gregory with an expectant look, rocking back and forth on her heels. She needed to get this meeting out of the way so she could hurry up and think of a way to get a confession out of Creech. Either that or burn him and sort out the evidence later, but that was hasty, and it never paid to be hasty. Unless it did.

[babel_matrix]

Gregory

He had, by necessity, given his secretary some insight into his world... but something about the Warden told Gregory that Susan just wasn't ready for that level of initiation. "Hello, Zelda," he answered, eager to escape Susan's range of hearing, "good to see you again. Shall we talk inside?"

[Astro_sol]

Zelda

Zelda gave a start and switched her attention to Mr. Black. Was he embarrassed by his other companion? Still, he raised a good point.

"If you insist, Mr. Black. Good day, Miss. Perhaps some other time," when there wasn't a murderer or two to stop. Which seemed like every day. She began walking towards the familiar building, letting her mouth begin to run. "What a wonderful house. Just like home. You Americans usually get them wrong, but this one is quite authentic. Mr. Felix has good taste."

[Steel Mirror]

Gregory, Zelda

As the pair began to walk towards the front door, they attracted a bit of attention from the assembled antique vendors. Between Gregory's expensive suit and personal driver, and Zelda's period-authentic dress and refined features, they probably looked like Christmas come early for the antique yard sale.

"Oh beautiful dress dear, where did you get it?"

"Good morning sir, you look like a man who might enjoy a genuine Victorian silver smoking pipe. Can I tempt you to take a look at my collection?"

"My, my. You early birds must be looking to pick up all the best deals before others snap them up! I have this beautiful Gurkha blade from the early 1800's, complete with scabbard and sharpening set!"

The vendors were polite enough to be fended off with a smile and a couple of friendly words, but the sheer variety and quality of gods assembled there on the lawn was formidable enough to tempt the two wizards into a moment of observation nonetheless. Ancient vases, trinkets, silver pocket watches, smoking equipment of all kinds (tobacco pipes on up to opium censers and everything in between), furniture, antique weapons, paintings, and more. Gregory could see some of it being perfect gifts for certain clients and senior partners at the firm. Neuman especially was said to be fond of antique weapons, especially those hailing from the East.

Of course, that thought was tempered by his more specific distrust of such a display. Little fragments of history, all up for sale to people who thought that ownership was nothing more than a transaction of money. But history could be dangerous, and sometimes objects remembered that more than people did. As he made his roundabout way towards the front door, he began to feel a headache from the vague intermingling of energies in the area. And it got worse when the vendor with the Gurkha knife approached them.

Zelda didn't notice anything amiss about the place in general, but the knife vendor immediately caught her attention. He was showing her an oddly shaped knife that seemed to bend forward into a thick chopping edge, like a cross between a hunting knife and a sort of miniature axe. The sheathe for the knife held other sheathes for smaller, more utility-sized knives. It was worn but well cared for, and the steel on the naked blade was polished and wickedly sharp.

It was a tool meant for killing. More than that, it was a weapon that had killed, many times. She could feel that much from it. Such a psychic impression would make it a powerful tool for ritual magic, and she was currently on the lookout for a ritual athame. Of course, it could also be dangerous. Doubly so in the wrong hands, and as a Warden this was the sort of thing she was generally supposed to keep an eye out for.

The man who was offering it was a mousy-looking thin older fellow with a long, drooping mustache and some kind of rash or scar on the right side of his face. He smiled when she paused to give the knife a little attention, and motioned to show it to Gregory as well. Both wizards fancied they could smell a bit of spoiled fish or something in his breath.

Felix

The maid bustled around interminably until she noticed the suit that Felix had hung up on a towel ring in the corner. She frowned. She walked over and almost tripped on the cast-off clothing he'd just stripped of his body. She gave a start, then bent over to examine them.

She let out a shriek when she realized that the stains on the clothes were blood, then looked around in panic as though an attacker could have somehow hidden behind the trash bin or something without her noticing as she walked into the room. Well, of course Felix had in fact hidden and she still hadn't noticed, but he was up. Not behind the toilet paper. And thankfully, it still hadn't occurred to her to look up.

With jerky, hesitant motions, she stuffed the dirty clothes into a rubbish bag and then grabbed the suit. Then, just as she was about to leave, the droplet of blood fell from Felix's body, straight towards her head.

She stepped out of the room just in time, leaving the drop to land unheeded on the floor. She closed and locked the door behind her, leaving Felix, without clothing and with a big problem, alone in the bathroom.

[babel_matrix]

Gregory

Gregory had not even managed a reply to the Warden's layered barrage before the wave of consumerism smashed into them.

"Thank you, I just need a few minutes."

"Ah, I will think on it."

"Yes, that-" He had been resolute in deflecting salespersons until the blade lied before him. His denial fell silent, but his expression had become too grim to suggest an eagerness to buy. Indeed, one might have gotten the impression he had been offended by the approach, as if he were a moment away from spitting at the man who held a tool of death. "No." It had come out too urgent, too somber.

Gregory chuckled and shook his head, if only to hide his nervousness. His mother collected such things, keeping them locked in a vault far away from where she rested her head, far away from other living things... if not for the Warden, who's actions he watched with increasing interest, he might have forced himself to carry the thing until he could deliver it. But odd as she may be, no matter her expertise... no Wizard could look on this relic and ignore it's aura. He was tempted to try and urge her towards purchasing it... but he stayed his words, waiting to see what the Warden would do.

[Fernosaur]

A huge sigh of relief came out of Felix's lips as soon as the door shut. "God dammit." He swiftly let the strength on his hands and feet fade, and dropped to the floor, landing on his feet. He glared at the door, rubbed his temple, and sighed once more. "As if the day hadn't been bad ****ing enough already! Okay, now what?"

"Hmm... well, if you ask me, now's a perfectly good time to sit back in a metaphysical plane of half existence and enjoy a show of good humour, starring the red headed loser with the eyepatch."

Felix muttered the words "motherfu--" without sound, and puffed. He needed to get out there and look for that suit, and he had to be quick. The Warden and the lawyer would probably arrive any moment now, and he sort of wanted to not look like a wandering hobo for a change. Even if he totally was one.

He needed to think. The cleaning lady had probably taken the suit to Matilda, but if she was busy out front, she'd probably just drop it in the Lost and Found desk. That was actually his only real shot at getting the suit back and getting dressed and ready for the meeting. The difficult part was, you know, being like 95% naked. He looked around the bathroom to try and find something that could cover him u-- voila.

"You're joking," Mel whispered with a chuckle as Felix walked up to the maroon colored curtains and thugged them off the rod. "Oh, in the name of the Traitor, this is your best one yet."

"Shut the f*ck up, Melchior," Felix spat as he wrapped himself up with the curtain, covering his head as if it was a cloak. The last word was an attempt at getting back at Mel, since he hated that nickname, what with it being related to the guys who gave presents to Jesus and ****. The demon didn't care much, though, he knew that Felix had little advantage against him at that moment -not that he ever did. "This ain't gonna do, though. What else, what else... yes."

"You know," Mel added as Felix leaned down to pick up the rug from the floor, "If the covenant between you and me was any more recent, I'd be genuinely concerned that you think this is actually a good idea." The redhead wrapped the carpet around his waist, using it as a... skirt. Or something. At least the thing covered everything down to his calves, and it was the same-ish color as the curtain.

"Can you think of anything better?"

"How about using those little hand towels to wrap your feet? I bet they'd be wonderful 'traditional' shoes back in Indostonia."

Felix looked at the towels right after the demon mentioned them, and a short silence followed.

"Felix... you're not actually thinking..."

----

A couple of minutes later the bathroom door opened, with none other than mister Manyara Manyunga from Indostonia, South Africa, walking out with steady steps and a slightly hesitant air to his face. "Alright... let's get that suit."

And he started going downstairs...

[Steel Mirror]

Felix

The downstairs area was a straight hallway that led from the front door to the kitchen and office in the back, flanked to either side by sitting rooms that now served as combination tea house and historical exhibit for visiting customers. Both rooms were wide open, as was the front door, though fortunately Felix couldn't see anyone from the top of the stairs. He could hear some chatter coming from the room to the immediate right of the bottom of the stairs though, and he would have to pass by there in plain view if he wanted to walk downstairs... or he could drop himself over the side of the staircase and into the hallway, avoiding the view of the downstairs tea room but possibly exposing himself to anyone further down the hall as he leaped down.

As he nudged down another couple of steps to get a better view of his options, he heard a few snatches of a conversation happening in the sitting room nearby.

The first voice was a man's, young-sounding and a little nervous. "-fourth time you've raised the price. I should never have gotten involved with a bottom feeder like you."

The response was a woman's voice, smooth as a velvet glove. "It does seem to be a seller's market. Believe me, tracking down this thing was a lot more trouble than I thought. I had to travel all the way down to Los Angeles to secure it. But it's one hundred percent genuine, psychometry verified, and all that costs money. I promise you though, it's worth every thousand."

"My family doesn't let people take advantage of us."

"Oh please. This is a standard fee for services rendered, not extortion. You want it enough to pay the price and w both know it, so let's skip to the part where you give me the money you brought in your briefcase and I can tell you where your item is."

A tense business conversation from the sound of it, but then this was an antique fair. Rich people spent their money on all sorts of crazy things. Other than the two talking, it sounded like the sitting room was empty, though he couldn't be entirely sure about the back of the house.

[Fernosaur]

Felix went down the stairs as silently as he could. With the business people in the adjacent room, he had to be as sneaky as possible. He tried sharpening his ear in order to see if there was someone in the back of the house, where the lost and found office was. By paying a little more attention, he could finally make out Matilda's voice in the backroom. She was talking to some guy about...something, he couldn't really make it out because of the conversation that was happening in the tea room to his side. But that mattered little, he had to sneak into the office and grab the suit without Matilda noticing him, otherwise he was gonna get the scolding of his life.

Felix peeked out towards the office door, which wasn't completely locked, and it seemed no one was inside.he man's voice continued. As he got ready to jump the handrail and sneak in, the man's voice from the tea room continued. "Fine. Here you go. Fifteen grand, as demanded." There was a pause and a rustling noise, like a bag being searched through and papers moved aside.

The woman laughed. "It doesn't really look like much as cash does it? All right, here it is."

The man made a choking noise. "You were wearing it?"

"Sure." Another laugh. "It's not like it's dangerous, I had the best object reader in the country guarantee it for me. And I was pretty sure you wouldn't suspect that I..." The voices faded as Felix drew away with a swift step, sprinting into the office in the blink of an eye. He closed the door as fast and silently as he could, and inside...

[Astro_sol]

Zelda

Zelda felt sick. She couldn't decide whether it was from the man, who reminded her of Gene on bad days, or the ritual dagger he held in his hands. The Fae probably wouldn't care about the entire situation, but she knew the Council did. And for good reason, at least in this case. That weapon needed to get off the streets, or be destroyed if possible. No good could come of it. Even fire could provide warmth, but that weapon could only murder, and painfully.

"Where...did you get that artefact, sir?" Her mouth was moving before she could really think about it, and she couldn't take her eyes off the dagger.. She needed to question him first, at least find out what he knew. Perhaps he had honestly stumbled across it, as these things tended to happen, but a nagging doubt lay in her mind. Maybe he knew what it could do.

Maybe he'd already used it.

[Steel Mirror]

Felix

During his brief moment rushing past the open doors of the kitchen, Felix spotted Matilda, facing away from him fortunately, speaking to the maid that had found his clothing. Behind both of them, old Nicholas was puttering around with the tea and organizing some kind of tray of appetizers. Felix's stomach growled a bit at the sight of them.

"will take care of itself, don't worry. What won't take care of itself is that rug hanging in the back. I need you to give it one more cycle of wash and rinse, I can swear I still smell the baby vomit-"

Felix was past them and into the office beyond in a flash, with hopefully no chance for them to notice him. He paused for a second before entering the office, both to check if anyone was inside and to listen to see if anyone had noticed him as he ran past. As he waited, he had to grab his makeshift kilt-rug to prevent it from falling down past his knees.

There was a moment of silence, then the maid's voice. "Is there something wrong, Matty? What are you looking at?"

"Oh nothing, sorry. Mind playing tricks. Let's focus on getting these sandwiches out and our laundry in shall we?" Felix finally breathed easily as he closed the office door fully behind him. On the other side of the single desk was the lost in found, and hanging on a coat rack above it was the suit that Stanley had gotten for him. He smiled in relief as he crossed the small room quickly to finally put it on, letting the rug fall off him as he moved.

A piece of frilly paper fell out of the suit pocket as he lifted it, a piece of paper that he was pretty sure hadn't been there before. What's more, as he bent over to pick it up, he recognized the elaborate stationary as belonging to Mathilda. She always did like things to be extra ornate and interesting.

The writing on the other side of the paper was in her flowing, flowery handwriting. "Boy, you are in some trouble this time. I can see where you got this suit and who gave it to you, now you better explain to me what trouble you've gotten yourself into this time or I'll flog you down the street and into the river. I wasn't expecting to see you this morning so I haven't much for you to eat, but there is a cold croissant and some cheese in the first drawer. Why you never tell me when you're coming I'll never know-it wouldn't kill you to spend 2 minutes to give me a call."

"P.S.- Put some damn pants on. You better have a good explanation for this, and I expect you to clean my rug before you put it back."

Gregory, Zelda

"It is a long and colorful tale, my lady. It was scavenged from the battlefield by a British leftennant during the Gurkha war, after a night where it was said that a crazed Gurkha soldier killed nine rifleman with it before expiring from multiple gunshots and bayonet wounds. The officer kept it as a keepsake, and was forced not three nights later to use it to defend himself from another attack, when he swore in his journal that bloodlust came upon him like a man possessed and gave him the strength to fight off a dozen attackers in hand to hand battle."

"From there it passed in time back to Britain, by a chain of owners, and each time it was accompanied by bloodshed and valorous victory. Each time it seemed to come into the ownership of a new master just in time to be employed to save his life, eventually moving on to another owner when it seemed to be needed no more."

"I have affidavits attesting to its use in the Opium wars in China, the Crimean war, the second Boer war, both World Wars, and even, it is said by Special Forces operating in a few dark corners of the world in more recent decades. I have all the paperwork available for your perusal, if it pleases you."

The vendors words were silky and practiced, spinning his fantastical tale in such a way that made the incredible words seem eminently believable. For its part, the dull, dangerous blade caught the morning light and glittered, deepening the sense of more-than-natural purpose that both wizards could sense from the weapon. It wasn't malicious, per se. It was a tool. But unquestionable a tool for killing, and one that pushed and strained to be employed.

[Astro_sol]

Zelda

Zelda asked for the papers, giving them a quick glance over. She nodded, squinting as if to make out any fine print. But it was all for show; she couldn't make heads or tails of whether the man was speaking the truth or not, or just how authentic the papers were.

So she shoved them into Gregory's arms, giving him a small look that lasted just the smallest bit longer than it needed to. He was Council. He'd understand the importance of this, certainly. "Would you be a dear and double-check them for me, Mr. Black? Thank you." She turned back to the man, giving Gregory a small tug on his shirt.

"I have an interest in all sorts of artefacts, sir." In getting them off the street, certainly, unless it was an old Wizard's attempt to make a candy machine. That would have been alright. Why didn't more Wizards do that? "I would know of your asking price before making any further inquiries, if you would be so kind."

[Fernosaur]

Felix closed his eye tight as if a punch was speeding towards his face as he read the whole part about the flogging into the river. Yup, home sweet home. He sighed as he kept reading, and a smile formed on his lips. He always did intend to call Matilda before he arrived, but he always forgot, and by the time he remembered he already was like 5 minutes away from Puyallup anyway, so it never made a difference.

Well, at least he was about to get all dressed up. He tried to hurry, just in case someone decided that was the best time to find a lost object (which wouldn't surprised him one bit, honestly), and put everything on. There was a mirror on the side of the room, and he could finally see how he looked like in that suit. It was a damn nice suit, silver color on top of a black shirt, appropiate for all occassions and all times of day. Not that he knew that kind of thing, of course, but it would have been obvious for anyone with some eye that Stanley and his people knew what they were doing. It also seemed like they had his measures just right... and that Mel was somehow right about the rear area. He grimaced at the thought and shook his head to forget it. No one could argue that he looked damn fine.

Although perhaps he should have eaten that cold croisant and cheese before putting the suit on, he had never been the classy kind when it came to eating. But he wasn't going to take it off just to have breakfast either. He opened the drawer, took the croissant and the cheese out and sat to eat VERY CAREFULLY on the desk. They were simple things, but damn, did they taste like glory.

[babel_matrix]

Gregory

Gregory played along, scanning the papers carefully... taking care to not set off one problematic rune or another held within the documents. As an added protection, in the event some terrible script might hold a magical trap, he skipped single words and ineffectual lines while occasionally looking up, scanning the salespersons present... seeking any sign of others like their eager blade vendor.

[Steel Mirror]

Gregory, Zelda

"Right to the point, I see. Well I like to say that the true value of my wares cannot be measured in mere dollars, but I have to make a living myself, yes? And since this set comes with a rather extensive set of historical documents to establish its provenance, and has had such a storied and unusual history, it is of course one of my more expensive items. And yet still a bargain, at four thousand dollars, including packaging and authentication. Given its history, it's a purchase that may save your life, and how do you put a price on that?"

Gregory's glance around didn't catch anyone who was of particular notice- the other vendors were drinking coffee, or chatting, or finishing arranging their wares on the lawn. A few seemed vaguely interested in the negotiation, but no more than anyone might given that the artifact was fairly expensive and it was the first sale of the day. That and the fact that they were about the only customers around, except perhaps for one other red-faced man who was just hurrying out the front door with a briefcase in hand.

Zelda noticed the man as well. He was mounting the front steps in a hurry, not looking up at any of the vendors, and clutching his case tightly to his side. He was wearing an expensive suit and a pair of glasses, and she recognized him-he had been with Creech earlier. He had called the old bastard father, in fact. He hadn't noticed her yet, absorbed as he was in his own issues, but he hurried along the sidewalk towards the road, passing not three feet from where she was standing.

[Astro_sol]

Zelda

Zelda looked at the knife. Then back up to the sleazy man. Then back to the knife. All while keeping the awful, awful Creech's son in her peripheral vision.

Surely the Council would understand that there was no way she'd be able to talk that price down. 4,000 dollars? She wouldn't pay that even if she did have that kind of money. Perhaps she could...acquire it, later. It wasn't wrong to steal something so dangerous. It was a little sin compared to what the knife was capable of if someone else got a hold of it. And she certainly wasn't going to ask a new-found acquaintance like Mr. Black to put forward some kind of deposit, but he certainly looked like he could afford it...

Later. For now, duty called.

"Ah, I'm afraid that's outside of my budget." She gave a small nod. "Good day to you, sir." With that, she hustled off before the man could protest, heading straight for the son, but making sure to stay out of his immediate line of sight.

[babel_matrix]

Gregory

Out of her budget? Gregory's mind chewed the words, trying to find the reason behind it... Perhaps she's more cautious than your average Warden... letting the blade lie and waiting for more recon... maybe she noticed the man's nature as well? Regardless of her own caution, it didn't seem wise to keep the blade in the market, and neither could afford to keep an eye on it...

As Zelda quickly made her exit, Gregory stepped forward, tight smile and raised eyebrows ready to haggle. "Perhaps the politest way I've ever seen someone dismiss such an... ambitious pricing. Sadly, unless it decides to come down to a tenth of that asking price, I'm afraid I must join her." He gave the man a polite nod before taking what was likely to be an uninterrupted leave of him.

[Steel Mirror]

Gregory, Zelda

"Come now, surely you can't just walk away from such an artifact without at least discussing it! If it is only the price you are concerned with, perhaps we can work something out. I might be convinced to sell it for slightly less if I were satisfied that the weapon's new owner was one who would cherish and care for it as such a unique treasure deserves."

"Or perhaps I can interest the two of you in another antique weapon, or antique. I have many more, none quite so singularly intriguing, but then none quite so expensive either."

Zelda was heading straight away as the smelly man spoke, heading straight towards the son. For his part, the junior Creech either didn't see or didn't recognize her, and continued walking hurriedly down the porch and towards the street. He was perspiring a little despite the early morning chill, and was holding the briefcase a little closer to his body than normal. He didn't look over even as his and Zelda's paths grew close to intersecting.

Felix

As Felix savored his morning meal, and even moreso the feeling of being both clean and fully clothed, he could hear the muffled sounds of people conversing and taking tea a few rooms over, and the kitchen staff (and Matilda) bustling about in the kitchen next door. He could go say 'hi' whenever he liked, now, seeing as how he was decent and all. Probably should clean those rugs and curtains he'd been using as clothing soon as well, of course.

Mel was uncharacteristically quiet, but then he tended to quiet down in the vicinity of Matilda and Meeker Mansion. He didn't stop talking, of course. There was no power of which Felix was aware that would stop the demon from volunteering his advice, usually at the most annoying possible moment. But he was being quiet for now, and the silence was as enjoyable as the food or the new suit.

[babel_matrix]

Gregory

Gregory glided past the man's adjusted sales pitch, keeping focused on the sharp pace of his Warden companion. What the man they just left behind was, beneath the glamour of humanity, had Gregory on edge about the den they were about to walk into. Were there more out here? In there? Was that unnamed third party, a man who fought monsters like a superhero and ran from the police like a supervillain, also one of them? He looked up to the house... if it was that creature's home or place of business, it was almost a guarantee. He slowed his steps, until he came to a complete stop to stare up at the weathered structure. Squat and far from intimidating, Gregory dismissed its physical visage by closing his eyes. Forget your worn shudders and renovated walkways, your irresponsible yard sales and a title only the government could give you... Show me what you're truly harboring. With two eyes closed, he opened the third, and looked upon the Meeker Mansion.

[Fernosaur]

He should, yeah, but he decided to leave the cleaning for later. He so wasn't gonna do that with his fancy suit on. As soon as he finished the croisant and cheese, which didn't really last for more than a couple minutes, he finally got up, fixed his hair a little bit in the mirror, and walked out of the office as stealthily as he could, closing the door behind him with lots of care as to not make any noise.

He then stayed in the hallway for a second more, and headed straight for the kitchen, where he could still hear Matilda talking to the maids and the rest of the staff.

He pushed the door open gently and popped his head in, shooting out the puppy smile he was well known among the maids for. "I'm home~!"