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Quiet Man Cometh

#81

That didn't go all that badly, actually. Mildly surprised, Syrgei still wonders just how optimistic he should allow himself to get.

He looks at BAG, before talking to Gambooges, stating more than asking, "that wasn't BAG, was it?"

Tea?

Gallagher

#82

"No. No, it wasn't."

Suzerain of Sheol

#83

Largely ignoring the no-doubt thrilling conversation unfolding behind her, Tsaerri leads her two companions through the quiet streets of the lower Western Commons that make up her neighborhood. Passing off-duty carpenters and gardeners, they raise more than a few eyebrows with the hefty piece of machinery trundling along behind them, but no one accosts them. It doesn't take long to reach the secluded half-house tucked into a shadowy corner of the city wall that serves as her home.

And of course, the door is hanging open. Tsaerri just stops and stares at it flatly, neglecting to even comment.

Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

Quiet Man Cometh

#84

Though it is readily apparent what happened, Syrgei approaches the open door and looks into the room to see if anyone is still present, hand resting on the doorjamb.

"Hamstrung, you said, right?"

Tea?

Suzerain of Sheol

#85

"Both legs, and slashed tendons in her wrists, and I tied her to a chair. I told you these people were badass." Tsaerri neglects to mention that it occurred to her afterward that the assassin could have simply summoned a phantasm to untie her and carry her away. Oops. She takes a step to her right and taps Gambooge on the shin with the toe of her boot. "You go make sure it's safe inside."

Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

Gallagher

#86

"Hey!" Gambooge all but jumped away from Tsae, lifting his leg and flapping an arm at her like a strange, epileptic bird. "Dooon't you start with that again! You can ask without all that kicking business, thank you!"

Suzerain of Sheol

#87

"Wowwwwww, I kick a guy in the shin one time and he thinks I'm some kind of maniac." She rolls her eyes and strides away from him. "I guess I'll have to look around myself. Glad you two big, strong men are here to keep me safe."

She comes up next top Syrgei and peers inside, not seeing or hearing anything out of sorts. "Right," she mutters, taking a second to retrieve her blindfold and tie it back on. "Not making the same mistake twice."

Pistol in one hand, sword in the other, Tsae very bravely, very confidently sends a pair of clones in to check the place out for her. There's a muffled crash as one of them trips over a chair in the unlit building. Nothing else exciting seems to be forthcoming. There aren't many places to hide inside.

Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

Quiet Man Cometh

#88

Verifying that no one is hiding in any nefarious corners of the entryway, Syrgei turns his attention to the doorway and immediate area.

He crouches down and searches for any marks or stains where someone might have dragged or struggled to move around.

Oh right, Mesmer.

"Could she have done that teleport trick you do could get away? How far could she make it doing that?"

Tea?

Suzerain of Sheol

#89

"I mean, there's a hundred tricks she could have pulled to escape. I honestly thought she would be in shock from all the pain and blood loss, but Gods only know how she did it. She could be halfway to Cantha by now for all I know." Letting her illusions go, she takes her blindfold off again and steps inside.

"Might as well come in," she mutters to the men behind her, seating herself lazily on the kitchen table, legs swinging. "I'm just gonna sit here and think about how much mesmers suck. You guys come up with a plan. There's wine in the fridge."

Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

Gallagher

#90

Gambooge frowned, his attention shifting from Tsaerri as she stepped through the door to Syrgei making use of the detective skills that he honestly had no idea the man had. He shook his head and walked inside. He only had a short moment to look over what he supposed qualified as decor to a mesmer's mind before he turned to help the golem get through the door without breaking anything. It never liked walking sideways. "A plan for..." Holding onto the golem's arm, he looked over at Tsae. "... what exactly? Finding your burglar, or cleaning up the place?"

Suzerain of Sheol

#91

"Well, since you're offering. The place is kind of a mess, huh? I'm sure your robot would love to help." Not paying him too much mind, Tsae unzips her boots one at a time and kicks them. Her feet are still sore from earlier. She sets about massaging her poor ankles through her butterfly-dotted socks.

Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

Quiet Man Cometh

#92

Having finished his basic sweep of the area, Syrgei finds no clues or probable trail as to where the assassin may have gone, minus a delicate and bloody hand print midway up the outside of the doorjamb, and a small rust-coloured scuff on the stone just outside. Between the door and further down the alley, nothing.

He walks back to the entrance to Tsaerri's home but the doorway is onow blocked by a large round of metal apparently being jimmy'd inside. With nothing to see beyond the back end of a golem, he calls to those inside the house.

"Do you need a hand?"

Tea?

Gallagher

#93

"What?" he called in return, leaning to peer around the golem at Syrgei. He blinked, then frowned at Bag. "Get out of the way, you!"

Gamby was quite certain that if Bag had eyes, it would be rolling them. Still, it shuffled its way inside and away from the doorway. "You—made—me—come—inside."

"Yeah, yeah, poor you."

"I—wanted—to—finish—shopping."

"You didn't want anything but to torment me. Why don't you make yourself useful and tidy up the nice lady's house?"

"Why—don't—you?"

Suzerain of Sheol

#94

Hopping up from her perch on the table and suddenly realizing that she hasn't eaten in the very long time, Tsaerri rummages around in her cupboards until she finds her favorite sugared crackers and begins snacking on them, leaning back against her counter. Deciding they're a little bland, she nabs the salt from behind her and dumps a generous helping into the bag, giving it a vigorous rustle.

"You know," she comments between bites. "It has a point. You were the one who suggested it." Tsae withdraws another cracker, flipping it between her fingers. "I'll tell you what. You use your fancy water magics and clean my floor, and you can have some of my crackers. Deal?"

Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

Gallagher

#95

"HA—HA—HA."

"Yeah. Yeah, well you know what?" Gambooge replied, wagging a finger at Tsae before he spun around and yanked open the front of the golem. "You can just, you can keep your crackers, and maybe I will- Ugh, you got eggs everywhere!"

"I—am—not—authorized—for—egg—carrying. "

He sent a glare at Bag as he rolled his sleeves up, fog twisting around his wrists. "Yes, actually, you are! You're just an asshole!"

"I—do—not—have—an—"

"Forget it! Never mind!" He sent a sweep of water through the golem's insides, which then spilled out onto the floor, along with globs of egg and loose herbs. "The point is that I don't need crackers!" He yanked out a box, which was, unsurprisingly, now soaked. "I have cake!"

Suzerain of Sheol

#96

Tsae looks on as the scene unfolds, cracker in hand midway to her mouth as her beautiful purple-dyed Canthan lion-skin rug gets spattered with Gambooge's groceries. With aching slowness, she finishes her bite, loudly, ominously crunching the cracker.

"Gambooge," she says in a voice probably horrifying for its lack of outrage, "do you have any idea how much that rug you just ruined cost? No, don't bother thinking, I'll tell you. It was six. Hundred. And eighteen. Gold. And ninety-three silver. And you do NOT want to know where I got the money for it."

She calms herself with another cracker. "Now, we might have an assassin cult after us, but trust me, Gambooge, darling, that rug just became your number one priority." Tsae gestures obliquely and summons a clone right next to the temperamental wizard. "I don't know if you're aware, but, you happene to be one of the people I hate the least in the entire world, so I want you to know, I would nevvvvver, evvvvver do anything to hurt you." She pops a third cracker into her mouth, chomping on it emphatically. "And as your caring friend, I feel like you should know, that phantasm right there hates your guts. And if that rug isn't better than new in an hour, she's going to kick your shins into pudding."

The mesmers brows knit in feigned worry. "I really hope you'll be okay. She can be a bitch like that."

Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

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