Café de Nuit

Nerit glanced between Tomas and Mary. So she hadn't expected to see him ever again, then, with all the fuss she was making.

"I believe you've frightened the poor doe," the nun laughed lightly. Though with the things Tomas might have been involved in in the past, there could be good reason for it.


Insight on Mary: 18. Blah.

Rock wrote:No, I am free to follow my own will, as I have always done. I stand where my own honour dictates." The smile behind Lia's veil is slightly twisted. "In other words, those who wish my support should be honourable. Or at least in the right."

"...Hear, hear!"

Either Celeste disliked arguments enough to stay out of them until they were over, disliked the suggestion that the government could possibly remain at odds with its own academics, or had become confused midway through the discourse and decided to stop paying attention. As always, with her, it was difficult to tell.

Her next words, however, were directed at Professor Theroux: "Be that as it may, gentle Professor: our nation's security veritably hinges upon our renewed access to the Museum, and the treasures contained therein! Oh, do say that you shall allow us entry!"

Courtyard, University of Dementlieu, Port-a-Lucine; Evening of March 24th, 770
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Lia wrote:"We have been investigating matters connected with the recent upheaval," Lia replies. "Including the outright disappearance of three Ezrites from la Ste. Mêre des Larmes. One of them seemed to have some strong fascination with the exhibits at the Guignol Museum. We need to go over it again, Andre, you know we must." Lia gives Andre a piercing look. "And at some future time, when Simon has calmed down, I must ask you to have him contact me. I do not wish there to be trouble between us and the De Casteeles."

"Later, yes, later can work. When he's not breathing fire." Prof. Theroux said. Given that Simon de Casteele was a fairly prominent mage, his comment was only half-joking. He mulled over Lia's words for a time. "Lia... can I speak with you for a moment in private? It's important."

Celeste wrote:Her next words, however, were directed at Professor Theroux: "Be that as it may, gentle Professor: our nation's security veritably hinges upon our renewed access to the Museum, and the treasures contained therein! Oh, do say that you shall allow us entry!"

"I can't very well stop you from buying tickets and looking at the public galleries, now can I?" Prof. Theroux said, tilting his head to look at Celeste. He paused again, obviously thinking. "If you mean, will I let you look into the staff-only areas... I can't allow that. Maybe later, but not now, not with everything that's going on at the University."

"Lord de Casteelle would have my head, for starters, but more than that, it's dangerous here right now." Andre said, looking up at the rest of you with an earnest expression. "I'm serious, this is no joke. We might be seeing troops here any moment, and while I know you can take care of yourself Lia, I'd rather not see you get into an argument with a cannon ball. And not just because I'm not actually sure who'd win."

"Take my advice and lay low. This'll all be over in a couple of days, one way or another, and then I'll let you look into every nook and cranny of the University. Hells, I'll lead you myself, and I'll get Simon to give you a personal set of orders if I have to." Prof. Theroux said, finishing in a deathly serious tone. "But not now. The University's a powder keg about to explode, and you really don't want to be caught in the blast radius if it does."

Rue des Epices, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Evening of March 24th, 770
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Kerrian wrote:"I don't mean to trouble you, but would it be alright if I asked you some questions about the bookshop across the way? I know it seems strange, but it's kind of important. Also..after what happened on that night, it's good to see another one of us well."

"Good to see you too, and sure, I'll be glad to help." The shaggy-faced shifter nodded, though he kept working. "That was not a nice night, you know? What do need with Miser Marks, anyway?"

"Want a sandwich?" One of the calibans offered, a huge, brutal-looking fellow with ragged teeth. "We've got extras."

Tomas wrote:"I, uh." Tomas rubs the back of his head, not willing to accuse Mary of anything when it could be something as innocent as a bit of elf...well, dwarf blood in her background, but still wanting a subtle way to address the whole 'hasn't aged in ten years' thing. "You look good! I mean." Tomas gestures at his own weather beaten face as if that explained everything. He will realize he is giving 'old girlfriend' vibes to a very dangerous person(i.e. Nicolas) later. "With that sunburn cleared up and all..."

"Thank you, Tomas. That's very sweet of you." Mary Collins said, either totally missing the Lamordian's implications, or simply totally ignoring them. She smiled in what was only a partially successful attempt to play the coquette. "You look good too."

Alice had wandered off to examine the book shelves upon entering the store, plucking tomes off the shelves despite her repeated claims of disinterest in them. It was not terribly hard to notice, however, that her search brought her closer and closer to the current conversation. It seemed Miss Blackwood had a habit of eavesdropping, if not a particular talent for it.

Nicolas wrote:"Charmed madamoiselle, Im very pleased to make your acquaintance." He says running a hand artfully through his hair and offering a short bow, all the time keeping that slight mischievieous grin in place. "Long and hard are the roads from the Amber Wastes, you have my sympathies for a trfiling yet such an utterly painful malady such as sunburn, I suffered much myself under the endless Pharazian skies. But what pray tell brings you to the City of lights, surely not just the latest installment of banality you hold in your hand?"

"Ooh, M'sieur Castaigne, I've read The Prince of Rakosk. Such a dark book, but soooo romantic." The red-haired girl said, looking at Nicolas with renewed interest. "It must've been so hard to write something like that."

"I'm actually hoping to write too, which is why I'm in Port-a-Lucine." Mary Collins explained. "Though I wouldn't try to write a novel yet. I'm job-hunting so far, with the daily broadsheets and such."

Cyrus clasped his hands behind his back.

"You still have not addressed my question precisely, Professor," the priest said, "Under the circumstances, it seems Lord de Casteele has two options. Work with the authorities to prove his brother's innocence, or attack the authorities, which makes him and his kin look more guilty. A man with nothing to hide should not be afraid of the law. Besides, it seems to me that in effectively attacking the already-crumbling institution does nothing but add to the troubles this nation already faces."

He smiled politely. "You will forgive my misunderstanding, of course," he said, "We have had nothing but peace and stability in Hazlan for some fifty years now. Ever since the Lawgiver came to our land, our nation has been sturdy. Rigid, perhaps, but quite strong."

Nerit meandered, rather blatantly, to Alice, as if she knew perfectly well what she was doing.

"Do you see anything that catches your fancy?" the nun asked with a grin. She was referring to the books. Of course.

Well if she didn’t have Nicholas' undivided attention before she had it now. The poet's grin tugs a little at the edges of his mouth as he attempts to cast a rather modest expression. "You do me a great honour milady, and that is all a writer can ask, that his words resonate in the hearts and minds of his readers."

Out of the corner of his eye Nicholas watches Nerit and Alice, but politeness keeps his attention on the lady in front of him. "I wrote the odyssey of Prince Karol many moons ago and I forget the exact source of my inspiration for it, yet like many of my other works I do remember its writing consumed me like a fever until I could complete the final lines. But such is the nature of ones muse, without toil and pain nothing but dross will manifest." Nicholas spoke with practiced ease although a slight tick pulled at the corner of his eye.

“I do wish you luck in your job hunting but moreover in your literary endeavours Mademoiselle, my advice would be to draw on your travels, tales of the exotic go well with the Dementlieuese palette. Should you wish any further advice, I would be happy to oblige, perhaps we may meet again, unless Herr Eisenwald objects?" He finishes with a raised eyebrow at Tomas.

Rue des Epices, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Evening of March 24th, 770
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Nerit wrote:"Do you see anything that catches your fancy?" the nun asked with a grin. She was referring to the books. Of course.

"I must defer judgment on that, dear Sister. Books are treacherous little things. Even the most innocuous cover might hold some fascinating tidbit, and yet you have no way of judging it until you've read the whole thing and know the whole story," Alice replied, with a sideways glance at the trio of authors and would-be authors. "I am merely taking advantage of the situation to buy a few gifts for those more inclined, though I must say this bookstore has some intriguing looking tales in it."

For some reason, the topic of books appeared to be a rather amusing one at the moment.

Nicolas wrote:Out of the corner of his eye Nicholas watches Nerit and Alice, but politeness keeps his attention on the lady in front of him. "I wrote the odyssey of Prince Karol many moons ago and I forget the exact source of my inspiration for it, yet like many of my other works I do remember its writing consumed me like a fever until I could complete the final lines. But such is the nature of ones muse, without toil and pain nothing but dross will manifest." Nicholas spoke with practiced ease although a slight tick pulled at the corner of his eye.

“I do wish you luck in your job hunting but moreover in your literary endeavours Mademoiselle, my advice would be to draw on your travels, tales of the exotic go well with the Dementlieuese palette. Should you wish any further advice, I would be happy to oblige, perhaps we may meet again, unless Herr Eisenwald objects?" He finishes with a raised eyebrow at Tomas.

"I wish I could write like that. But I can't get inspired like that. Just doesn't work out for me. Most of what I write is pretty much exactly what I see." Mary said with a soft sigh. She looked back up at Nicolas, possibly to see what reaction he had to her literary hopes. "And I didn't really see enough of the Wastes to write about them. I have been thinking of trying to write a book on how the poor live in the Quartier Ouvrier. But I don't know that anyone would want to buy it."

A twinge of doubt cramps Nicholas stomach, this girl seemed to know exactly what buttons to hit. Either she had an ulterior agenda or fate had for once not decided to spit on him from a great height. Fortunatly Nicholas was at least as paranoid as he was arrogant and with caution in his head but not on his face he responds.

"Perhaps you need to find a muse of your own....., but then I hesitate to pass comment on your work without seeing it firsthand. I do however applaud your choice of subject, the downtrodden of this city need all the champions they can garner. In fact I believe the plight of the poor will be the subject of a piece I am working on right now entitled Ashes of Empire. But tell me have you undertaken much first hand research in the Quartier yet?"

The last question was asked with well concelaed interest, young red haired ladies didnt go wandering in that neightbourhood alone and Nicholas' suspicisions had been aroused.

OOC: Insight on Mary's motives 12 if she is a golem Nicholas is in trouble.....

NeoTiamat wrote:
"Good to see you too, and sure, I'll be glad to help." The shaggy-faced shifter nodded, though he kept working. "That was not a nice night, you know? What do need with Miser Marks, anyway?"

"Want a sandwich?" One of the calibans offered, a huge, brutal-looking fellow with ragged teeth. "We've got extras."

"I won't turn down the sandwich, if you don't turn down me lending a hand" Kerrian said to the Caliban, with a nod towards the brickwork. "As for Mister Marks...it's not so much him, as his customers...I was wondering if in the past few days...maybe longer, have you seen anyone that stands out as odd.." Kerrian's look suggested that he knew just how odd a line of inquiry this was. "Regulars who act different, that kind of thing."

"...you misunderstand!" Tomas exclaims, rubbing the back of his head and doing his best not to look at Alice. "I mean, I'm certain Miss Collins can spend her time with whomever she pleases, you see." By the time Tomas has finished saying this, Nicolas and Mary have gotten halfway through another conversation.

He is NOT jealous of the attention Nicolas's work gets over his own, Tomas insists to himself. "Funny how your writing process sounds more and more like a weekend long bender..." Well, maybe a little. Tomas dries up at the mention of the poor quarter, adjusting his hat and scowling. "Frankly, Nick, I doubt the average reader would believe you. The world is much...broader than people want to believe."

"But I feel as though I am interrupting." Tomas tips his hat, "And we still have those inquiries about Warden Lacenu to make. Mary, perhaps we can catch up over dinner tomorrow, if you are not working? Nothing special, I was just going to cook some stroganoff...recipe I picked up from an old woman who was kind enough to let me winter with her up in Sanguina."

(OOC: Insight: 1d20+13 16+13 = 29.)

"Lay low," Lia repeats Andre's words. "Yes." Thoughts are moving behind the Mage's eyes like shadows on the water, and none of them seem to be at all pleasant. "Very well, then. But tell the man I would like to speak with him once he has settled down a little.

In the meantime," she continues, turning back to the people who came with her, "I think we should pay a visit to professor Marchand-Renier. Professor Theroux' advice is sound in these matters, I assure you; we do not want to stay here any longer than we absolutely have to."

"Hrm... let me check." Marks said, opening a drawer in the counter behind which he stood and took out a catalog book. The gnarled man flipped through it then nodded. "Afraid not. Last one I had I sold about six months ago, and I don't think they're printing them any more. I can ask around, see if I can't find you a copy though."

The Tollere feigned surprise, then consternation at this news. "A terrible shame. Say, I don't suppose it was Warden Lecanu who purchased your last copy? Average looking fellow, starting to come on in years and slightly balding last I recall?" he said with a smile and a shake of his head. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen him about at all lately. If you even recall the man, would you happen to have an idea as to what has become of him recently?"

Courtyard, University of Dementlieu, Port-a-Lucine; Evening of March 24th, 770
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Cyrus wrote:"You still have not addressed my question precisely, Professor," the priest said, "Under the circumstances, it seems Lord de Casteele has two options. Work with the authorities to prove his brother's innocence, or attack the authorities, which makes him and his kin look more guilty. A man with nothing to hide should not be afraid of the law. Besides, it seems to me that in effectively attacking the already-crumbling institution does nothing but add to the troubles this nation already faces."

"You would have to ask Simon about that." Prof. Theroux said. He shrugged, spreading his hands. "I make a note to never second guess someone who can render uninhabitable more than a quarter-acre at a time... Not in public, at any rate."

Lia wrote:"Lay low," Lia repeats Andre's words. "Yes." Thoughts are moving behind the Mage's eyes like shadows on the water, and none of them seem to be at all pleasant. "Very well, then. But tell the man I would like to speak with him once he has settled down a little.

In the meantime," she continues, turning back to the people who came with her, "I think we should pay a visit to professor Marchand-Renier. Professor Theroux' advice is sound in these matters, I assure you; we do not want to stay here any longer than we absolutely have to."

"Will do. Hmm... Definitely not tonight or tomorrow... probably not the day after, but after that I'll see what I can do." Prof. Theroux said. He looked a bit relieved now that Lia and the others were aiming to follow his advice, and therefore probably not get murdered in some painful magical crossfire. "Sebastian... should be at his room in the Manor Retreat, healing up from someone putting little bits of metal into him at rapid speed."

Rue des Epices, Quartier Marchand, Port-a-Lucine; Evening of March 24th, 770
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Mr. Agale wrote:The Tollere feigned surprise, then consternation at this news. "A terrible shame. Say, I don't suppose it was Warden Lecanu who purchased your last copy? Average looking fellow, starting to come on in years and slightly balding last I recall?" he said with a smile and a shake of his head. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen him about at all lately. If you even recall the man, would you happen to have an idea as to what has become of him recently?"

"It was M. Lecanu, yes. Good customer, though I don't see him very often. Haven't seen him in person since December." Randall Marks moved his finger down the ledger, shaking his head. "Though his friend came by in January to pick up some of the books he ordered. Have you talked to his friend? Can't help you with the name, I'm afraid, but he's a large man with yellow hair, had two gold teeth. Memorable sort of fellow."

Kerrian wrote:"I won't turn down the sandwich, if you don't turn down me lending a hand" Kerrian said to the Caliban, with a nod towards the brickwork. "As for Mister Marks...it's not so much him, as his customers...I was wondering if in the past few days...maybe longer, have you seen anyone that stands out as odd.." Kerrian's look suggested that he knew just how odd a line of inquiry this was. "Regulars who act different, that kind of thing."

"If you can get these discards piled in the wheelbarrow, much obliged." The caliban said, passing Kerrian a sandwich and pointing at the broken brick that lay all over.

"Odd folks 'round Miser Mark's place..." the shifter said to himself, chewing over a stray piece of sandwich meat that had been stuck in his teeth. He thought about it, a process that took a while. "There was the toad eater."

"Had one sitting right on his shoulder, tame as anything!" one of the other workers hooted. This one was human, but about as ugly as the calibans, and missing all of his front teeth. "Like one of them squawky birds the sailors got. Bet it didn't realize it was like to be supper."

"There was a red wizard around not too long ago," the caliban mentioned. "Smooth as an egg, and had so many tattoos on his face his skin looked blue. Don't know how he could stand the cold without a shirt." He shook his head at the folly of foreigners everywhere.

"There's the beggar girl from across the river," the shifter tried.

"She wasn't a customer, she just wanted your sandwich," the caliban replied. The human snorted heavily at that, laughing with his gaping grin.

"There were some sailor gents from, what'd they say? Graben? Really friendly people," the shifter offered. "They had almost introduced themselves to everyone on the street before they left. They had some foreign nuts they were giving out, said the guy that ordered them wouldn't pay."

"Cash-chews," the human corrected.

"There was that guy who just handed us his wallet," the shifter recalled. "That was nice of him."

"It was weird of him. There's been a lot of those, really," the caliban said, with a bit of a furrowed brow. "That guy in the purple shirt who was offering free jam... one man came by and asked us to sit outside the Palace of Justice, said we should demand the gendarme be forcibly disbanded for incompetence. One night some lord drove up with a nice carriage, had red griffins on the side, offered me a ride home after work. Said the streets weren't safe. That's just the ones I saw personally, I've heard stories about a lot more. I'm not sure what to think about it."

"It's nice to see people caring so much," the shifter said, brightly.

Nicolas wrote:"Perhaps you need to find a muse of your own....., but then I hesitate to pass comment on your work without seeing it firsthand. I do however applaud your choice of subject, the downtrodden of this city need all the champions they can garner. In fact I believe the plight of the poor will be the subject of a piece I am working on right now entitled Ashes of Empire. But tell me have you undertaken much first hand research in the Quartier yet?"

"Not nearly enough." Mary Collins admitted, looking a little wistfully at Nicolas. Then her gaze sharpened, and a more practical tone entered her voice. "I wonder... perhaps you'd be willing to look over some of my writings so far? It's just a few sample articles, nothing too serious yet."

"But I feel as though I am interrupting." Tomas tips his hat, "And we still have those inquiries about Warden Lacenu to make. Mary, perhaps we can catch up over dinner tomorrow, if you are not working? Nothing special, I was just going to cook some stroganoff...recipe I picked up from an old woman who was kind enough to let me winter with her up in Sanguina."

"Unless I suddenly find a job, I'll be available." The red-haired girl said with a flash of dark humor, then the more sugary voice returned. "I would love to. So many interesting things must've happened since we last met. Where would you like to get together?"

"What surprises me is not so much that this de Casteelle would resist arrest," Darius says quietly. "That happens all the time. What does surprise me is that he has so many willing to support him in his defiance. If the University is willing to mobilize itself against government, that says either that the University has a stronger grasp on the minds and hearts of its members than one would expect of an institution of education...or that the nominal government is simply no longer recognized as a legitimate authority by a large portion of its citizens."

Darius pauses, and then says, "Or both. One thing I do know...if all of the mages line up on one side of a dispute such as this, the other side will find it very difficult indeed to make headway."

He does not bother to add, We should know...but then, he probably doesn't have to.

Nicholas responds to Tomas with a rueful smile, not really rising to the bait but viewing the exchange as grand game between two comrades in arms (or at leats giving that public impression). "Who knows Tomas, but perhaps let us leave judgement on the fruits of my latest week long bender to the readership, providing of course that authorities let this one get that far." he adds with a slight clench of the jaw.

Mary Collins wrote:"I wonder... perhaps you'd be willing to look over some of my writings so far? It's just a few sample articles, nothing too serious yet."

Nicholas was still wary of the woman but as Tomas had just upped the stakes, it was onyl right to respond. "I would be delighted to entertain you in such a fashion Mademoiselle, you may call upon me any time. In fact perhaps I might entreat you to dinner of my own or perhaps a conversation over a bottle of fine wine? After you have caught up with old friends of course...."

"But now yes Tomas is right, we have matters to attend to and books to trace, so Im afraid its down to business, although I do most look forward to renewing our acquaintance in the future."