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 Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 4:50 am
It was a beautiful day at the Asterion League headquarters. The sun was shining. The air was humid. A band of tipsy Pennier were celebrating their latest successful mission by singing a filthy old sea shanty on the steps of the Main Hall, and the courtyard was full of sparring adventurers being alternately cheered and heckled by their comrades. No hunting parties were missing, the Support Division was free and clear of critical patients, and the on-site taverns were fully stocked. The latest batch of new recruits had faded into the hustle and bustle of the busy mercenary band. The morning had been very uneventful.
Then one-hundred and forty pounds worth of burning Ejderha came rocketing through the window of Auguste Renoir's large second-floor office.
Glass shattered, paperwork scattered, and a fiery blur crashed head-first past Auguste's desk. The jet of flame that had been propelling her vanished in a cloud of thick grey smoke. Flailing white wings and fluffy sheepskin were barely visible through the ashen haze.
The Ejderha made a guttural hissing noise. Auguste might have had reason to wonder why she hadn't been knocked unconscious, until he smelled a whiff of burning wood, and his unexpected visitor wrenched her horns out of his bookshelf with a painful-sounding crack.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 7:41 am
The sound of the fiery crash all but drowned out the noise of Auguste's legs being taken out from under him by what was left of his chair. In a flurry of feathers and splayed wings he failed to catch himself properly and fell the short distance to the ground. On all fours he looked up to see what manner of projectile had just crashed into his office, and in the back of his mind he clucked over how telling it was that he wasn't horribly shocked by incidents like this.
"Mother help us," he muttered, close enough now to see that she -- as the crash had definitely been caused by a person -- was moving.
Auguste crawled over to the other but kept a cautious distance, allowing his wings to drag lightly on the floor. He amended his feelings from a moment earlier, because at the sight of a young Ejderha lodged in his bookcase he was very shocked.
"Was my door not suitable?" He asked lightly, but he didn't disguise his obvious distress at having a young woman thrown through his window.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 7:13 pm
Franziska took more than a moment to regain her bearings. Evidently she had not accurately calculated the force of her ascent. It felt as though the atmosphere had wrapped around her and twisted, tearing at the joints where her wings met her back until she crashed into this place. She could truly be anywhere within the Asterion League compound.
The dull pain in her skull promised to blossom into a splitting headache. She had skinned both her knees and the palms of her hands. Balance had deserted her. She was in some stranger's workspace, with no idea of the terrain, and apparently she had alarmed a secretary.
Marvelous. Just... marvelous.
"No," Franziska muttered dryly. She probed at her skull with the pads of her fingers, careful to ensure that her claws did not slice into her scalp. "Thick timber wouldn't have broken as easily."
An old, familiar feeling rose up in the Ejderha's chest, and she quickly retrieved one of handkerchiefs that she kept in her coat pocket. She did not speak again until she had hacked a few globules of blood into it.
"Remain calm." Franziska flapped her wings as best she could. The smoke did not clear, precisely, but visibility improved marginally. "And be certain that you are not on fire."
Ordinarily she would have manhandled the civilian in order to check herself, because civilians could not be trusted with these things. But she was still marginally disoriented.
What she could see of the room was... blue. Very very blue. Suspiciously blue.
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 10:00 am
"Please, I'm more worried about you than my nerves, and I assure you," the also very blue 'secretary' said with almost a laugh, "that I would know right away if I were on fire."
Auguste pushed his wings out to their full extent to clear his area of debris, then began a series of strong, forceful flaps, following Franziska's example. A wind picked up in the room that cleared the soot and smoke from the air, and finally Auguste could see. He winced at the state of his office.
"And this place was finally starting to feel homey," he lamented quietly at the sight of his battered office. With a sigh he pulled himself up to his feet and walked over to the woman. He gracefully folded his wings behind him once more.
"Allow me to escort you to a healer, just to make sure that all is still in place. Can you walk?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 11:13 am
Franziska's eyes narrowed.
"That's not necessary," she said, abruptly, sinking the talons of her left hand into the remains of the book-case. If she got a good enough grip, she would be able to haul herself up.
This was an odd room. Not institutional. It made her wary; particularly since the clerk did not look overly clerk-like. It was possible he had been hired for his good looks and genial demeanor, rather than his professional qualifications. The scattered clutter in this office indicated that might not be very organized.
"Flight spell accident. I don't need help."
Franziska paused to survey the area. Her internal clock ticked. A bird trilled outside the ruined window. She ruthlessly quashed her embarasment.
"This estate is sturdy. A weaker keystone above your window arch, and the wall would have collapsed in. Under less favorable circumstances, we could have been crushed. Or the glass might have served as shrapnel." The secretary had sounded emotional, for a moment, so Franziska was attempting to say something encouraging. It was the kind of thing Hakaan would have advised her to do. Franziska herself did not always deal well with emotional people.
She rose onto one knee, with an audible hiss.
"I'll pay for the cosmetic damage."
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 4:12 pm
"Let's not worry about that now. I'll figure out what to do about the office later. I'm hardly here anyway." Auguste stubbornly crouched and tried to help her stand, and wondered if he should expect to be hit for his efforts. "We'll talk about it with your division leader just as soon as we've taken you so see a healer. You are a part of the guild, right?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 8:26 pm
"Recently."
Franziska allowed herself to be dragged to her feet. She could feel her frustration mounting - not the Pennier's fault, but her own, for being weak - and exhaled a plume of light grey smoke.
"No healer."
Honestly, that was just a waste of resources. She was perfectly capable of disinfecting any wounds herself, with the bottle of high-proof gin that she kept in her quarters.
The Ejderha glanced down at where the secretary had grabbed onto her forearm. Then up at his face. Then back at her arm. It was as though she were studying a strange foreign species.
"Someone from outside the Guild would be a possibility? And that does not alarm you?"
Her brow knit with genuine confusion.
"I inquired, previously, about compound security, and was told that you felt safety in numbers. But high intake of armed persons would merely make things easier for malicious intruders and saboteurs, would it not? The Asterion League is known as a haven for pirates, dissidents, and malcontents seeking a second life. Enemies of any such group could easily infiltrate a compound such as this, and utilize, for instance, the barrels of wine in the Main Hall as an incendiary aid. Yet when I crashed here, you did not attempt to attack or detain me."
Franziska shook her head. It seemed like a natural gesture, at first, but there was something about the motion that made it clear she was habitually checking the sight-lines in the room.
This civilian was trying to be helpful, so Franziska would be helpful in return. Her statements were completely earnest. The Asterion League headquarters was physically comfortable, but Franziska had felt infinitely safer hidden in the cellars of Red Claw sympathizers, or camping out for the night in Nasaja's abandoned storm drains. Everything about this place was open and wrong, which was why she had been working on using her pyrokinesis as a method of swift escape.
If she'd kept her head clearer, this mess would not have happened.
"In Sovya country, this system would be unthinkable."
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Posted: Wed Jul 04, 2007 9:52 am
Auguste laughed, a sound of casual amusement without a real concern towards her statements. "Do you really think that the League is in danger of attack? Infiltration? If we were more secretive, yes, perhaps we would need to be concerned. But there are no real secrets. Everyone knows what we are, mademoiselle."
Auguste knew what it was like to hide and to look at every face that surrounded him and wonder which one was lying, which one would turn on them, or if perhaps they already had. One eventually grew accustomed to never having a real home that they could feel safe in, and comfort was only found in the face of an old friend. The one person he knew wasn't hiding a dagger behind their back... at least not a dagger for him. When he first arrived, he would have more than sympathized with Franziska's discomfort, but sometimes he wondered if he had grown soft since settling down on Murzim. He had always been poor at security anyway. That hadn't been his job.
He began to make moves to walk towards the door with Franziska's arm still in his grasp. "If you had drawn a weapon after you pulled your horns out of my furniture, this meeting would have gone much differently."
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Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2007 12:50 pm
"Ejderha," Franziska arched an eyebrow at the Pennier, in order to more effectively correct him, "Do not require weapons."
Wing and claw and breath and horn. These, they said, were Esma's blessings, granted so that even the poorest and most downtrodden among them could stand proud upon the battlefield. A good soldier should recognize her fortune. A good soldier must prove herself worthy.
"A high public profile only makes the targets of grudges and vendettas easier to locate. Granted, former criminals or famous dissidents, such as the Ranged Division leader, likely have their own anti-assassination protocols in place."
Franziska herself had spent the previous two evenings rigging her new room with vials of concealed kerosene, so that she could easily ignite a distraction if she needed to escape her fellow League members or an irate Cerastes agent.
She reflexively fanned her wings, allowing the air resistance to slow both of them down just as they reached the hallway. Odds were that the secretary meant well, but she was deeply suspicious that he was attempting to belay her previous requests. Civilians had an irrationally low tolerance for blood.
"... you're not taking me to a healer."
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Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2007 8:11 am
"Anti-assassination protocols? I think that he's largely supposed to take care of himself," Auguste said with a wry smile. "He's lucky that he gets to stay here at all, wouldn't you think?"
He sighed and shook his head, reluctantly letting go of Franziska. "But anyway. Are you just going to limp around the grounds instead of getting yourself tended to? Just swallow your pride for the sake of sensibility. You seem like a practical lady."
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Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2007 1:19 pm
"Pride?"
Franziska arched an eyebrow.
"Not pride. Efficiency."
In Franziska's experience, the attentions of a healer were either unecessary, or the healers themselves were not skilled enough to fix the problem. Healers were only marginally more competent than most civilians.
"Bruising is immaterial. The blood- that's not a product of this incident."
She coughed a bit more, then cocked her head to the side. Her horns weighed more heavily on her neck than usual. The best thing she could do was retire back to her room with a book and a pillow.
"May I take your name?" Franziska's brow wrinkled. The time which she'd been forced to spend in the Registry Office was highly irregular.
"I... expect there will be paperwork."
She briefly considered attempting to buy the poor man something, but decided against it. The Ejderha had no idea what sort of gift a civilian would appreciate, and suspected that it would probably be something she wouldn't know how to buy.
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2007 7:41 am
Auguste weighed the possibility of pushing a healer on Franziska again, but it seemed they had very different views. Healing was always a luxury, one that he seldom had access to in years before. But when you did have it on hand, it was only sensible to grab the opportunity. The wounded could not protect themselves. They were a liability, though he disliked the word intensely considering the context. He remembered when Blaise had broken his wing and refused magical healing in favor of the followers, and Auguste thought he was being unreasonable. Their argument had been somewhere similar to this one, but decidedly less professional...
He pushed those memories away and cleared his throat.
"There always is." He lamented. Auguste stretched his wings a little and took the time to remove some debris that had gotten stuck in the blue feathers. "I can handle it, however, as I think I'll largely be able to avoid the paperwork and all the channels it'll have to go through. It'd just come back to me anyway.
"My sincerest apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I'm Auguste Renoir."
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Posted: Sun Aug 26, 2007 7:01 pm
"Ah."
Franziska guessed that the predictable emotional response would be embarassed about this.
"Franziska of Nasaja. Offensive Magic Division, pyrokinesis and explosives."
She ought to be chagrinned and apologetic. Neither, however, were responses that she could easily muster. Franzika was mostly worried that she hadn't been able to tell the man was a target at first glance. His musculature was developed enough that she should have thought twice. Where was her vigilance!?
Clever man! He'd used her confusion to get the drop on gathering information. Franziska could only hope that she was still mostly below his notice. She clearly could not afford to underestimate this Pennier.
"I'll be certain to pay you back, sir." She offered Auguste a ragged salute, using the hand she hadn't coughed on. Non-Ejderha could be surprisingly squeamish about such things. "And if you ever want to test your anti-assassination protocols, I'd be pleased to try to attempt a false hit on you in a more professional manner. For now, I feel that I should secure training facilities outside the compound, pending the approval of my Division Leader."
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Posted: Mon Aug 27, 2007 8:21 am
Auguste waved his hands dismissively, looking just a little amused, and his wings mimicked the movement slightly. "No, no need for that. For either paying back or attempting a better assassination, really. I've survived this long just fine, eh? But if Sisel sees it fit for you to check our perimeter, then by all means."
The lenses on his glasses switched and readjusted with quiet clicks so he could get a better focus on Franziska. The image sharpened and he noted the bit of blood as well as her typical stilted demeanor, though he reacted with just another bland smile. Auguste extended a hand to her. "It's nice to meet you, Franziska, even under such circumstances. Welcome to the Guild."
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Posted: Mon Aug 27, 2007 4:30 pm
Franziska shook, leaving a visible soot-print on Auguste's palm.
"I didn't intend to question your competency with my offer," she clarified. "The fact that you're alive is admirable. I merely want to keep my abilities honed. The League primarily persues beasts - that can't replicate sentient cunning."
Her grip was noteably weaker than appearances suggested, and Auguste's hand nearly crushed her own. While Franziska's build would have indicated healthy vigor in a Pennier, she was more than a little scrawny for an Ejderha.
"Do you think Division Leader Sisel would appreciate that? I haven't had the chance to participate live-fire mission yet. She has little guage of my abilities, or reason to rely upon them. If I were a Division Leader, I would not readily trust the opinions of a recruit."
She ventured a wry glance towards the wreckage behind her. The layout of the League buildings was of little consequence to her mission, but figured largely in her personal peace of mind.
Damn this sneaky Pennier! She couldn't stop blathering on like a green recruit! Franziska had to get hold of herself.
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