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Post by Reverend Mateus on Jul 29, 2016 12:14:03 GMT -5
“Shut your fucking face and listen up, whoreson.” It would be a bit more intimidating, really, hadn’t those words been hissed out by a furry little creature struggling to reach 13 inches in size. “You see, I don’t caaare if some superior will rip you another arse, couldn’t possibly care less — But you will escort us to lady what’s-her-name in charge here, got it?” And the ‘whoreson’ in question, a young cultist out on patrol, would most likely just have laughed and ignored the ferret … weren’t it for the fact that she was speaking for a group of four: More accurately, the Grandmaster and the Editor of the new NA, along with their beasts respectively. The cultist had little option other than following suit. Truth be told, it hadn’t been Silva’s first choice to go personally, by far not; this entire undertaking was unnecessarily complicated and bothersome. But, over the course of the past week, he had sent three messengers already, carrying a simple and polite invitation for the cult leader — None of whom had returned. By now Silva had to assume the worst, which wouldn’t exactly make the planned negotiations any easier.
“It’s not far now.” The cultist piped nervously from the front, for the fourth time now since they had left the forest, by now having crossed an (admittedly) impressive property and made their way through the worren net which is the manor’s hallways. Vincent was just starting to think that this child was leading them astray on purpose, when a tap on his shoulder and a (rather nervously) mumbled ‘Sir…’ alerted him to the fact that they were, curiously, standing amidst a floor of smoke now. It was snaking around their feet and trailing up ankles, surprisingly heavy and tangible, and Vincent felt the need to thread his fingers through it just to make sure it’s actually there and not a trick of mind. He swallowed that urge, instead looking around (at some point the cultist had made a run for it, and Wolf was getting increasingly fidgety) until he found the source of the smoke; seeping out beneath a door some way ahead. ‘Fucking great, now ain’t that just a tad dramatic?’
[Vincent R. Silva] |
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Post by Tapi on Jul 29, 2016 12:32:59 GMT -5
It was a precautionary measure, and admittedly a bit of a scare tactic. Letting her smoke slither around the floor outside her office helped Tapi find out whether or not those coming to it were friend or foe. Most of the time it was simply Lola or Tea with paperwork- a most horrible thing that had her dissipating into the very smoke outside her door to sneak away. Those outside this time however were neither of the two. She could feel their humanity, barely there but still far more noticeable than any of her cultists. Immediately it set the woman on guard. How anything could get this far into the manor and close to her was not good. Mentally she made a note to find the rabbit later and chew her out for missing the three...no, four whatever's that stood outside her door.
"The fuck do you want?" She decided to say, a bored tone hiding her slight unease. She wouldn't let down her guard or her own intimation. If whoever was there proved to be an enemy she'd have them dropping to the floor with burning lungs before they could so much as blink. Outside her door the smoke relayed her words, echoing them around the Puppeteer's as a few eyes opened within the mass to stare up at them.
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Post by Reverend Mateus on Jul 29, 2016 13:52:44 GMT -5
“Bossdoyoureallythinkthisis― -” The words were mumbled, and more than just a little panicked, but promptly cut off by an annoyed ferret snapping at Wolf to shut the fuck up. He wasn’t even sure whether that was Nu or Silva speaking there, but either way, the Editor bit his tongue and warily kept watching the ground; nearly jumping at the eyes opening up.
He definitely didn't like this entire situation. To be fair, being this deep into enemy territory with nothing but a half-trained beast as protection didn’t do his nerves well, and the fact that they were standing in fucking sentient smoke with giant fucking eyeballs blinking up at them... Well, it surely didn’t help either. Walrider, in the meantime, was doing his best trying (and failing) to bite at one of those strange apparitions ― At least one of them was enjoying himself. The echo of a voice sounding around them had but drawn a disdainful grunt from Vincent, as much of a noise as his throat was capable of. “Just a word.” Nu drawled back then, mimicking Tapi’s tone in mock. By now they had closer approached the door, noting how it got increasingly difficult to move forward. “You wanna have this convo on the damned hallway or are ‘ya gonna let us the hell in? We won’t bite, I swear. Swear on … Swear on Wolf’s left hand.” [Vincent R. Silva]
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Post by Tapi on Jul 29, 2016 14:01:00 GMT -5
"Swearing on someone else? Coward." She replied, the doors falling open regardless and parting to show the woman sitting at her desk looking as off put as her voice suggested. "Be lucky I'm even letting you get a word in. I really should just burn you all where you stand." As if to emphasize her point the smoke began heating, the flame above Tapi's head growing slightly larger and casting odd shadows across the room otherwise lit by the large windows decorating it. "Thing is, I've yet to have Puppeteers walk in here and not try to kill everything they see."
She realized what they were the second the doors had parted, the all to familiar feel of these mutts making her teeth grit in annoyance. "You want just a word? Then you better make it a single word because unlike you fucks I actually have shit to do." Paperwork she'd normally just hand off, in truth, but it made a nice cover. "Who lead you here."
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Post by Reverend Mateus on Jul 29, 2016 15:10:27 GMT -5
“Stay by the door. Outside.” Came the command at Wolf and his beast, only met with a slightly uneasy nod. The doors he pulled shut behind them, and Silva just barely bit down a comment about how overly-damned-dramatic the Cultleader was being with her smoke and eery lighting and shit. Good Lord, trying a bit hard, are we?
In the end the man crossed the distance between them silently, a chair pulled back and his shoes bluntly propped up on her desk, ankles crossed (and likely leaving some of her papers smudged). “Truce.” It was the single word she had demanded, and at that Nu swiftly moved from his master’s shoulder down his front; just to scurry across the desk between them and gather a pen and piece of paper. Just as swiftly she resumed her previous spot, the items handed over. “I'm Nu, that's my master Silva, Grandmaster of the New North American Chapter; I am but his voice. Pleased to meet you. ― And, well, some starry-eyed kid led the way, thank you very much.” The ferret spoke then way too quickly, and she was maintaining eye contact whilst Vincent was busy scrawling letters onto the paper, taking his sweet time doing so. Eventually Nu was the one to, again, carry the paper back to the desk, this time staying there. 'We offer an arrangement.' The words read, 'I have a proposal and you WILL listen, just to make this clear. Be glad I deem this important enough to stop by personally, after you so rudely ignored my invitations. ― After all, this treaty is more for your health than for ours, in case you haven't noticed the more-or-less metaphorical armies lurking by your very doorstep.'
[Vincent R. Silva]
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Post by Tapi on Jul 29, 2016 15:38:26 GMT -5
One of her eyebrows arched over the woman's shades, the blue eyes behind them widened just the bit in disbelief at his actions. Cocky shit. "Oh yes yes I see," she said, voice noticeably fake as she held the paper a moment longer before it's edges began to smolder. It quickly lit up in flames, the now burning words dropping to the desk and letting the fire spread over everything else, even lapping at the feet that dirtied it. Whatever was burning didn't matter to her, a point she let be made as her flames continued to eat away. "There's just a tiny little problem." Tapi leaned back in her chair, face going blank as she spoke. "I don't give a fuck. You want a truce? You should be thanking me for not having already turned you, your armies, and everything else within a mile to rubbish."
How often were people going to underestimate her? Sure, Tapi had her limits, but those limits did not extend to the actual army she had of powerful creatures. The older ones alone had the ability to level the entire state and more, why didn't these idiot mutts seem to get that? "Sure, I'll listen to whatever horse shit you and your...stuffed animal have to say. But you listen when I say that I won't even entertain the thought of what you suggest unless you get off your high horse and take your fucking feet off my desk."
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Post by Reverend Mateus on Jul 30, 2016 7:06:57 GMT -5
There was an offended squeak from the animal as flames began threatening to singe her coat, and to escape that fate she jumped onto the next safe spot she saw: which just so happened to be the armrest of Tapi’s chair.
Begrudgingly Silva eventually, too, took his feet off of the desk, and he muttered something which Nu plain refused to pass along. “Wrong. Not my armies.” She said in the end, the transition from third to first person smooth as ever, “I ain’t got nothing to do with that, have no interest in bashing in any skulls for naught. But, I do know of one or two rather important people who would not mind fucking your shit up, perhaps even joining forces to do so.“ “You lot barely survived one chapter ―by the way, congratulations for kicking Liam’s arse, he deserved that― But now, you see, we are talking six.” She carried on in that high pitch of her’s, carefully balanced on the armrest still. “Six chapters currently quarreling with each other whether you are worth the bother. And I ― I offer backup. Backup and the promise to put in a good word for you freaks. After all, I do believe I owe a favour.”
[Vincent R. Silva] |
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Post by Tapi on Aug 5, 2016 15:06:17 GMT -5
"Freaks" Tapi repeated with an eyeroll, hand poised above the small creature as if deciding whether or not to try swatting it off her chair. "You use a lot of fancy ass words, that on purpose? It's pretty off-putting." she scoffed and instead dropped an elbow down on the other arm of her chair, hand reaching up so she could drop her chin into it. "The only reason be 'barely', as you say, survived is because they weren't enough of a threat to go all out on." Tapi flashed a sharp grin, the scent of smoke growing stronger for a moment. "Just like how you aren't enough of one to immediately kill off either."
The flames on her desk extinguished, as if proving the point further. A small hum left the cult leader before she was tilting her head and staring out the window. "You can call it whatever you want but I've seen these kinds of powerplays before." She looked back at the Puppeteer across her desk, gaze fixing with his despite her shades. "Give me something worth ally-ing with you and I might consider it."
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Post by Reverend Mateus on Aug 5, 2016 18:02:49 GMT -5
“If those words really are too big for you, I would perhaps start to worry.” Nu chuckled, and she simply flopped down on the armrest, seeming quite content with staying there. The puppeteers gaze briefly dropped down to the desk as the last flames were extinguished, waiting a moment longer before he leaned forward again, arms crossed on the table between them. He had been told that this particular woman is one witty bone, granted, but this entire undertaking did prove to be more tiresome than expected. Two stubborn people in one room of whom neither want to budge by an inch more? Seldomly good grounds for anything. “Such a big bark, such shiny teeth ― You gonna fucking bite out any throats, too?” There was a weird noise coming from him then, probably meant to be a sigh, and the man took a moment to rub his face with both hands. “Lisssten.” He eventually had Nu say, “From one leader with god-given … disadvantages to the other. I know I come on strong, but believe me or not, I’m trying to fucking do a nice here, alright? I don’t have to endanger my own ranks for the sake of an alliance with yours, coulda just stand on the winning side and watch the more trigger-happy people grind you to bloody dust and grime.” And Vincent paused there for a second, eye-contact still held, “But I don’t. Because you helped me, in a way ― and I’m no fucking ungrateful son of a runt.”
[Vincent R. Silva]
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Post by Tapi on Aug 5, 2016 22:19:59 GMT -5
"You don't sound very grateful to me." She retorted. Tapi's gaze drifted down to Nu and she briefly considered stroking the creature like a villain might a cat in a movie. The action would probably get her fingers bitten and the last thing she needed was some weird kind of rabies. Giving a heavy sigh all her own Tapi shifted slightly in her seat and pushed her glasses up onto her head, glowing blue eyes now entirely focused on Silva. "As far as any alliances go, I can make it so you and yours aren't harmed but there's only so much I'm willing to do. Forgive me for not trusting someone in your position. Last time I was even a little nice to a Puppeteer he broke open my doors to you shits and caused way more trouble then I've ever expected to had."
Tapi huffed and cocked her head slightly, gaze narrowing just a bit. "I've run this group for 200 years, been alive far fucking longer. Don't try and compare us. I'll give you the bare minimum of what you're asking. If you do anything to prove you're untrustworthy or planning something I promise you, you'll be wishing I had no ties to any of the entities that deal with death."
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Post by Reverend Mateus on Aug 10, 2016 13:47:58 GMT -5
“He tries his best, believe me.” Nu snorted with a weird type of laugh, and it would be easier to believe wouldn’t the man’s face be as blank as a slate ― The usual. “Works for me.” He had her add then, a nonchalant wave of a hand. “Believe me, it’s a-fucking lovely to have a voice on your side in a council ‘ya ain’t allowed to sit at. Been there done that.” Ah. Such lovely threats she was making, even though a bit futile. Silva wasn’t gonna make the same mistake of underestimating this freakshow, seeing how that had been Liam’s final stumbling block on his way down. But neither, and that was equally noteworthy, was the other dealing with the same chapter, the same concept even, as she had last time around. This genuinely was a favour of goodwill, after all, a benevolent step forward. “I can offer this club of yours immunity ―At least from every soddin’ bastard lucky enough to call me Sir. That’s worth a lot, luv, got a deal there?” And it would be excess to call his show of teeth a smile, icy blue eyes stoically meeting the other’s somewhat unsettling gaze. Finally Silva held out a hand, dainty, well-manicured; a handshake to make matters official. “Ah, and please do be a snitch if someone steps out of line, we cannot have that after all, now can we? You will receive their heads personally, or whatever remains.”[Vincent R. Silva] |
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