(no subject)

[thirdtenkaistar]

A. Dirty Jobs [Elysium]

Despite the attack on the Corsair stronghold, it seems like it is business as usual in Elysium. Anyone who either is stationed in Elysium or have to be there on business may recognize Thomas from his trips to the Vault or on the network. He is following after a somewhat short brown-haired human man with a sour expression and a level of haughtiness that only a noble could possess. Thomas on his part is walking quickly, his hands constantly moving to write things down, shoulders hunched up, eyes darting constantly, and when he spots a fellow member of the Corsairs, he shook his head quickly, trying to ward them off from approaching him.

The man's voice carries as he speaks, clear and brusque. "Note the recent acquisitions in Elysium, I suspect certain people will have the gall to blackmail their betters, or worse blackmail peers! The coffee house near the Hall of Enlightenment, have you learned of who bought it?"

"Yes, Lord Tarquin. A Simone Wyatt is on the de... deed, but it is a proxy name, Lady D-de-de-deidre Savidge is the real owner of the..." Thomas pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, speaking slowly. "Dancing Drop."

The man pauses, turning to look directly at the young man, the sour look deepens. "Thomas, do work on that wretched stutter. No one will take you seriously. Thank the Divine that stutter doesn't carry to your penmanship."

"...Yes sir." Thomas' voice was barely a whisper as he lowers his head. "I will work on it."

"Good boy." The noble nods sharply. "Really, a stutter would make it look like I have taken leave of my senses and decide to have bumpkin for a... secretary. And stand up straight! Now boy, keep tabs on Savidge's land purchases - that wretched hen is up to something, and I aim to pull the rug out from under her. By the by, what time is it?"

"Half past three, Lord Tarquin - you have a... private appointment at quarter past four."

"Then I need to ready. You're excused for now - meet me back at the ship at five and make sure that the crew will have dinner set out." With that, Tarquin Lowma turns on his heel and disappear into the crowd.

Once the man is out of earshot, Thomas let out a groan of frustration as he buries his face in the notebook. "Uuuuggh...."

Flyby Flyers [Elysium]

At night, the city bustles, more people on the streets, and spilling out of dens of vices, but the throng of people meant that it is easier to get lost in a crowd.

A short figure in a cloak - not an uncommon sight given the amount of gallants, priests, and nobles not wanting to be publicly seen engaging in certain vices - lingers along the walls in the side streets and residential districts, pausing only long enough to leave a flyer - a map of the lands surrounding the city with big red Xes in certain spots.

The cloaked figure pauses and look around, as if expecting to be chased, darting quickly when he places he flyer up, this is a rather curious behavior - but will it warrant investigation?


Food for the Soul [Flotsam]

The mood was much more somber in Flotsam, and while he had been kept away from the flood of paperwork that spilled into the offices of the Empire, he managed to secure some time off his main job to get to Flotsam. He could be found either in the infirmary - a bell-like chime ringing in the air as green wisps surround him and the ailing corsair that he is healing.

Or he is in the kitchens of the mess hall, fussing over a very aromatic stewpot or helping to serve this dish over beans or stewed meats, often striking up conversations with children, trying to lift their spirits.

Whether he's in the mess or infirmary, he is rather subdued and pale with worry - and guilt. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" He would ask, he has to keep doing something.

D Wildcard
(bring your own ideas)

Comments

Food for the Soul [Flotsam]

[spacetogrow]

Ilphyl has shifted to the infirmary after the battle, running through any excess magical energy they have after their normal jobs in helping people heal more quickly. This is their first actual battle, and the scale is a bit daunting.

But they notice Thomas is a regular volunteer, and that he doesn't look mentally so hot. "Sure. Can you taste this?" A mug of some kind of herbal tea is held out. "Tell me if it's too bitter."

(Look, this does have medicinal use, but Thomas also looks like he needs a break and something to eat and drink, and Ilphyl suspects something orthodox won't work.)

Re: Food for the Soul [Flotsam]

[thirdtenkaistar]

Thomas looks up when he heard someone call out to him, clasping his hands together. "Huh?" He pursed his lips as he registers the request. "Oh, sure I can do that." He shrugs his shoulders as he accepts the mug, giving it a curious little sniff.

"It would make it hard for children to accept medicine if it is too bitter," he added thoughtfully as he gives it a little, tentative sip - bracing himself for bitter.

Re: Food for the Soul [Flotsam]

[spacetogrow]

It actually is pretty strong. Ilphyl's tastes are a bit skewed, so it was an actual taste test as well as 'please sit down and rest'.

"Well?"

Re: Food for the Soul [Flotsam]

[thirdtenkaistar]

His eyes widen before scrunching up, his tongue almost twitching in his mouth as the flavor hits it. Thomas forces himself to swallow the amount, his body shudders as he plops himself on a stool.

"It's... bitter." The young man tried so hard not to openly blanche as he tucks his hair behind a slightly pointed ear. "Quite bitter to be honest."

Re: Food for the Soul [Flotsam]

[spacetogrow]

Ilphyl is trying not to laugh at the face Thomas is making. "Oh, no! Here, maybe we can find some honey or something to cut the taste? Or maybe I made it too strong."

[thirdtenkaistar]

"Yes... that might help," He nodded perhaps a little too quickly. "Though for some of the smaller patients, cutting it might also help," Thomas considers the idea thoughtfully as he pursed his lips.

"Oh, I'm Thomas a’Bairdach, it's nice to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances."

[spacetogrow]

"I'm Ilphyl, and it's fine. I meet most of my friends when there's some problem or other about to happen, or just having happened."

"And I learned herbalism from a gnome, so I'm used to fiddling with dosages, though an adult gnome isn't the same as a human child, even if they weigh the same."

[thirdtenkaistar]

"Oh, that's good - I notice many outworlders don't seem to have much experience with multiple sentient races existing side-by-side," He nods in agreement.

"I suppose that is the case for most of us here, harsh circumstances and all. I am no fighter, but I do what I can."

[spacetogrow]

"See, that's normal where I come from. Even if a community is mostly one kind of people, they've heard of others."

Dirty Jobs

[upupatomway]

The loud noble makes quite the scene. Atom feels bad for the young man getting berated by the angry man, but he doesn't intervene. No doubt that would backfire. He keeps his head down and acts as if he hasn't noticed them. Chances are getting stared at is the last thing that the secretary wants on top of the verbal attacks.

After the older man walks away even Atom breathes a sigh of relief. The tension in the air dissolves and everyone on the street who overheard continues like normal. Atom glances towards the secretary when he groans into his papers. When the papers are pulled away, there's a mark- most likely from whatever pen or pencil the fellow was using- on the young man's face.

Atom gives him a little wave from the side of the street, hoping to get his attention, and taps his own face mirroring where the mark is.

Re: Dirty Jobs

[thirdtenkaistar]

He tilts his head back, exhaling as he reaches his hand up, rubbing his forehead, wiping off the pencil smudges in a manner that suggested that this was not the first time this has happened. His eyes darted when he noticed a child... or a youthful looking halfling waving before pointing to where he had wiped with a gesture of appreciation for trying to clue him in.

Re: Dirty Jobs

[upupatomway]

It looked like the smudge was gone. Without thinking, Atom gives him a thumbs up to signal that he got it all.

Just as soon as he makes the gesture, he realizes that he's assuming thumbs up means the same thing in this world when it could be something else. His smile goes crooked with self-consciousness, and he awkwardly takes his thumbs up and puts it on top of his head as if he's just being goofy now, although the initial gesture was probably unmistakable. Maybe he should just go with the arm circle over the head next time...

Re: Dirty Jobs

[thirdtenkaistar]

He's seen that gesture before, among the off-worlders, so even if it wasn't common, he understood the intent. He covers his mouth with a hand to stifle a laugh, before making his way to Atom, now that everyone else as returned to their business.

"Thanks for trying to warn me," he started, gesturing to where the smudge was.

Re: Dirty Jobs

[upupatomway]

"No problem," Atom says, smiling. "I once had a kernel of rice stuck to my face after trying a dish for the first time, and my little sister didn't tell me before I left the table. It was embarrassing to find out after I had said hello to the neighbors."

[thirdtenkaistar]

He raises a closed hand to his mouth to stifle laughter. "I suppose that makes me glad I'm an only child." That he knows of... he wouldn't put it past his father. "Appearances to matter in the position I have. What is your name, young name?"

[upupatomway]

"My sister is an especially adept troublemaker, really." Atom laughs. He's sure plenty of other siblings aren't half as much of a metaphorical headache as she is.

Appearances must matter even more with that boss. Hopefully that man wasn't about to come back.

"My name's Atom," he introduces himself. "Mr...?"

Technically he heard the name 'Thomas' said, but he doesn't want to make it awkward and remind him that multiple extra people could hear the scene. Besides, some bad bosses don't even get their employees' names correct. It happened often to robot workers. Better be sure.

Flyby flyers

[newmemorywhodis]

Link spots the figure putting up flyings, immediately decides that yes, it does warrant investigation. Not because he's concerned about any potential suspiciousness, however.

No, Link's just curious. And a little nosy.

So while one of the posters is being put up, Link casually saunters over to peer at the flying over the cloaked figure's shoulder. What do those X's mean?

Re: Flyby flyers

[thirdtenkaistar]

The cloaked figure stiffens upon sensing Link behind them, before ducking and darting away - not even bothering to take a look behind them.

This does however give Link a chance to get a better look at the poster - it's a map, and where there are large red Xes there's a stick figure of someone holding a bow and another one laying on the ground with arrows sticking out of them.

That certainly is a cheery image.

[newmemorywhodis]

For a moment, Link had wondered if the X's marked something to find. Like a hidden chest or other secret.

But then he sees the figure lying on the ground. Arrows stuck into their bodies.

Oh.

But he does then turn to the fleeing person, and says: "Wait!"

[thirdtenkaistar]

The figure pauses, a sense of recognition, before reluctantly turning, the hood still covering before they gestured for Link to follow - someplace away from the sight of others.

[newmemorywhodis]

Link doesn't need to be told twice.

He follows, moving away from people and crowds and into a dark, secluded alleyway. He moves quickly, but takes care not to make to much noise or draw any attention.

[thirdtenkaistar]

Once they were in the alleyway, the din of the streets fading - the figure removes his hood. Thomas sighs softly as he shakes his head as if trying to get rid of the serious case of cloak-hair that he's now sporting.

"I guess I caught your attention, Link - hopefully nobody more..." He pauses, glancing to the side. "unsavory had."

[newmemorywhodis]

Oh! It's Thomas. Link looks a little surprised to see him, but not unhappy. He gives Thomas a little wave. Hi!

(And don't worry, Thomas. If anyone unsavory had noticed, Link would defend them. He has his weapons, hidden away in his korok-enchanted pack.)

"The X's," he says. "They're...the hunts?"

[thirdtenkaistar]

He gave a stern nod. "Yes, I try to put up warnings about where a noble is going to hunt, I can't - can't figure out where every hunting party is... but I hope at least these are helping the serfs to avoid being preyed on."

[newmemorywhodis]

Link hums, softly. It's a good idea. Even if it couldn't save everyone...it could save some. And that was still important.

"...You want help?" He asks. Because Link could put up posters too.

[thirdtenkaistar]

Brows raised, surprise - then relief cross his face. "That would be helpful, just do-don't get caught, I da...doubt that they'll do anything to you here, but it might make it harder to put up future warnings." Thomas cautions as he starts to open up a satchel hidden under the cloak.

[newmemorywhodis]

"I can sneak," Link promises. And in fact, just recently Link made something that might be rather useful right now.

So as Thomas opens up his satchel, Link reaches into his - and pulls out two bottles of a dark purple liquid.

"Sneaky elixir?" He says, offering one to Thomas.

[thirdtenkaistar]

"You can do-d-do that with an Elixir?" his voice hitches slightly, curiosity and skepticism mixing together. Regardless of his uncertainty, he does take the bottle.

"Thanks, I think we can get all the flyers up before the nobles' guards will notice, and then the warnings will be spread by word of mouth."

[newmemorywhodis]

Link nods. Yup, he totally can.

Then, after taking some of Thomas's flyers, Link nods again to show he understand's Thomas's plan. He lifts his own elixir, bringing it to his lips - and gulping down the entire bottle.

And then, something about Link becomes...quiet. More quiet, that is, considering that Link's not exactly talkative. It's like there's a damper on all the sounds he makes.

So when Link takes some of the flyers from Thomas, and starts moving out of the alleyway, his footfalls are practically impossible to hear.