Divale, Ryott


Ryott falls for a trap set by Divale, but is left with an intriguing offer to consider.


It is before dawn of the seventh day of the twelfth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Central Bazaar, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 10 May 2018 04:00



"Don't run, girl. I only wish to talk! And there is worse I can sic on you than Eidolon."


Central Bazaar

All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.

It is the seventh day of Winter and 34 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day with a gentle wind.

Before dawn on a brisk winter morning, the sky is still dark meaning there are still plenty of deep shadows within the still mostly empty bazaar. With a full day of spyling training ahead of her, Ryott takes adavantage of the early mornings often to practice her slinking about from shadow to shadow soundlessly. The weather means that she is wearing several layers of dark clothes, capped by a woolen scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face and over top to cover the soft bristle of her shortly cropped hair. Coming up behind a smaller stall, she crouches and eyes the shutters locked in place. A quick glance around sees no one in the immediate vicinity, so with delibrate movements, she pulls a small set of lock picks from her pocket and sets to work. She's mostly using it as practice, Ryott's been having some difficulty picking up the new skill, but if she happens to find one or two things worth purloining that would be a bonus.

Twilight hour would guarantee that there are few souls about. The few that do prowl are on varying spectrums, as far as purpose and reason! Yet the pair of eyes that are watching from a distance are not human. Ryott will be left in peace to go about her "business", though she may not shake off that growing nagging feeling of being watched. It's only when she truly sets to work on practicing her new skill that the presence makes themselves known. A dry, quiet sound of rustling wings (or maybe it's sand and dust?) and a familiar ethereal pale brown firelizard lands on the nearest perch to hold him on that stall. Luck has it that he doesn't immediately squawk in alarm, but it's obvious enough from the way he cocks his head one way, then the other, that his interest is very much focused on Ryott.

When the hairs on the back of Ryott's neck stand up in that telltale way, the girl freezes, hands poised with the slender picks inserted in the hole. Silently cursing that she left her blues to sleep in, she sends them a mental nudge, calling them to her but knowing that it will take them some time to rouse. At the rustling sound, she quickly pulls the picks from the lock and stuffs them back into her pocket. Looking up to see that familiar brown firelizard, her natural scowl deepens over hooded ebony eyes as she slowly rises from her crouching position. Keeping her gaze trained on the flit, she moves slowly until she gets past the next stall and then picks up speed. From shadow to shadow she slinks swiftly, weaving through stalls, pausing every now and then to check to see if she is being followed.

It's far too late now. Even though Ryott has abandoned her work, Eidolon sticks to her like glue. There is a brief moment when it may seem like she's shaken off her tail, but the brown is determined and no doubt sic'ed upon her by whomever his master may be. Silent as any 'snake, he keeps just behind and above his quarry. So far it is only him; there are no hurried footsteps or commands shouted for Ryott to stop. Time is ticking down, however. Divale is on her way, but likely taking her sweet time about it. So who is leading who, here? Or is it that, the longer Ryott evades, the more she's unknowingly led right into the Wingsecond's path?

Ryott can feel her heart begin to race as she hugs a wall in the small space between it an the surrounding stalls, cursing silently as she sees that pale brown still on her tail. Just then, Trouble and Strife pop in from between in front of her, silent as she's trained them to be when answering a call. Considering her options, the spyling can only think of a repeat performance of how they managed at the Auction Yard. Yes, it's likely the brown won't fall for the same trick twice, but she can't see any way around it, really disliking the fact that she's caught anyone's attention at all. Silent command given, the blues take off sqwawking in the direction of the brown, and Ryott doesn't even wait to see if it works before she moves quickly in the direction of the Caravan Grounds, albeit still sticking to the shadows and narrow paths between kiosks. If she can make it to the Zingari camp, she is more than confident she can disapear with little trouble.

Should Ryott make it to the camp, it will truly be over. That is territory that even Eidolon's cannot easily trespass upon (or desires to). As Trouble and Strife come to accost him again, the pale brown attempts to veer and dodge them, hissing to their squawking. It's all part of the trap, of course! And expected. Just as Ryott plays her hand, does another firelizard appear from Between. A gold, who immediately swoops with a commanding snarl to drive off the two blues. Mercy will either drive them back to Ryott or away, at least, from Eidolon. A good distraction, if any! Within all that confrontation, Divale will make her move. Slipping from the shadows, she will aim to confidently stride right into Ryott's path and cutting off her more or less direct route to the grounds. Her expression is darkly amused, lips curved into a smirk while she locks eyes with the young Zingari. "So we finally meet!" she murmurs gruffly, while holding up a gloved hand in a warning gesture. "Don't run, girl. I only wish to talk! And there is worse I can sic on you than Eidolon."

Of course it is a trap, Ryott will be kicking herself if she manages to get out of this unscathed. At the arrival of the gold, her two blues will pop between, their instincts taking over in the face of a snarling queen. When they reappear just over her head, she is looking up at them, distracted from the fact that someone has blocked her exit. It's only by looking down at the last moment and skidding to a stop when she sees Divale there, that she avoids bowling into the brownrider. Muscles tensed, her own instinct to flee strong as she can hear the pounding of her heartbeats in her ears. Highly skeptical of the brownrider's offer to just talk, she narrows her dark eyes in her direction before crossing her arms over her chest defensively, training face into her usual, impassively frozen mien. An annoyed huff escapes her lips as she shrugs her shoulders indifferently. If Divale wants to talk, Ryott can't stop her, but she's keeping her mouth shut for now.

Remaining skeptical is a very wise decision when dealing with Divale. Even now, the Wingsecond has lapsed silent, though her gaze never wavers from Ryott. Keen, sharp eyes will observe her for a spell, before the brownrider moves; just a few small, quiet steps forwards. Dressed as she is in black and muted shades, she's almost like shadow. "You're the one from the auction yard, a few nights ago, no?" Spoken in the same tone that implies 'who are you'? She won't crowd Ryott, coming to a stop well outside of personal range and boundaries. "I'm curious to know if you work alone or are bound to another," she goes on to add. "Though judging by your skills and youth, I can hazard a guess to where your allegiance may lie." With the two blues chased off, Eidolon will vanish to his sentry duty, while Mercy returns and glides to land on Divale's shoulder.

Trying not to twitch when Divale advances on her, Ryott returns the older woman's never wavering gaze with an unblinking one of her own. Lips are trained in a straight, neutral line as she shrugs noncommittally when asked if she was in the Auction Yard, "Might've been," she admits in her deadpan drawl. When the brownrider goes on to asking about who she works for, the spyling shakes her head just a little bit, a carefully trained look of simple confusion settling over her young features. "No idea what you're talking about," she offers no more than absolutely necessary and she certainly won't admit to anything.

Divale's scoff tapers to a raspy chuckle, as though she's unaccustomed to showing so much outward amusement. Her expression hardly changes, but there's a vividness to her eyes that betray a deep rooted intrigue to the equally mysterious youth. "Going to play coy and difficult, are we? Not that it matters." she notes smugly. She'll get what she wants, whether it be information or an agreement (or lack thereof). Perhaps not now, but that may not have been her goal. Brows furrow for a moment, as she weighs her options and her decision comes within the next breath. "You've nothing to fear from me ? yet." A dark, knowing look, then. She saw what Ryott was up too. So is this a friendly exchange or the hint of blackmail? "There are a few… activities I can turn a blind eye to from time to time. All I ask is a favour, now and again. Small things, really! Mostly just, ahh… information gathering. To put it delicately!" Spying, she means but from the curve of her lips into a wry smirk, she's making a little joke on Ryott's obvious skill set. Tilting her head, she waits silently on the girl's response but yields no further information.

If you're quiet enough, people feel compelled to talk around you, it's a lesson Ryott learned at a very young age and one of the skills that singled her out for spyling training. Her slightly defensive posture doesn't falter, neither does her intense, unblinking stare. Making note of the subtle hint of threat in Divale's first declaration, though there is no change in her outward appearance. Once the older woman gets to the meat of the offer, she takes a moment to slowly sweep Divale with her dark eyes, all the way down then all the way back up, taking careful note of her knot, Ryott is obviously considering her next words very carefully. "I'm still not sure what activities you think I get up to that need a blind eye turned on them," the woman may have hinted at knowing her affiliation, but there's no way the girl will admit to anything at this point, or ever if she can help it. "But if I were the kind of girl to get up to said activities…" her eyes narrow slightly then, bringing her dark brows low over her even darker eyes. "What kind of information are we talking about here?" With the more she speaks, there's a definite Bitran accent to her tone, but it seems to be schooled into something more neutral with the girl's signature deadpan.

That lesson would be one of the few reasons why Divale's interest has been lured towards Ryott. So far, the girl has continued to impress, rather than be a complete disappointment! Even if this ends with no deal done or offer agreed to, the brownrider won't cut it as a complete loss. "Mhm. Indeed! I suppose you lurking about that stall at this hour was perfectly explainable?" she remarks dryly, with one brow quirked. It's true, she is assuming much on Ryott's capabilities, but what's life without a little risk? And it wouldn't be the first time (or the last) that she's turned to the youth of the Bazaar and beyond to run a few "tasks" for her. A vague smile curves her lips when the cryptic answer and question follow, a low chuckle forming in the back of her throat. Her posture is the illusion of relaxed; she's much like a coiled snake, ready to strike but appearing complacent. "The kind that is easily gathered through distant, but keen and dedicated, observation." she offers, bemused.

"I couldn't sleep, thought I'd get some fresh air." Ryott intones easily at the brownrider's first, but there may be the barest hint of a curl at the corner of her lips, as she considers what to do. From her knot, the girl knows the woman's a Wingsecond for Parhelion, which means she works with the Bazaar guard, so her offer to turn a blind eye occasionally could definitely come in handy. And gathering information is part of her job really, well it will be eventually. That brings up another matter, does she keep this to herself or bring it up to Javid? The Spymaster is not someone she wants to upset, and she's convinced he knows everything that happens. So many things to consider, her mind is racing! With a sharp tilt to her head, she sighs softly, "What's your name rider? I'd need to know who I'm dealing with if I'm even going to consider this," she drops the coy and cryptic responses now for a more direct approach.

Divale just levels Ryott with a look for the falsehood spoken, yet there's an air of amusement about it; even if there's no laughter or outward sign, it's there. Her rank as Wingsecond of Parhelion would definitely favour the girl in ways. She'd be wise not to cross with her, though so far she has not made this a one-sided ultimatum. At last, they come about to formalities and here, the brownrider straightens, a wry smirk curving her lips though she betrays little else emotionally. "I am Divale, brown Lukoith's rider and Parhelion's Wingsecond. As for the offer… If it requires some time to consider, I am a patient woman…" she muses, low and gruff spoken. "And what would your name be?"

Ryott doesn't flinch under the look shot her way, face impassive as ever as she quirks a brow as the brownrider introduces herself. Taking her time to level her own penetrating look at Divale, she considers just how much to share of her own identity. Finally deciding on a less is more approach, she'll reply simply, "The name's Ryott. And I would like some time to think about your offer. I'd be dumb to jump into something like this without at least sleeping on it first," the girl scoffs derisively, before dropping crossed arms to tuck her hands into her pockets, her stance relaxing subtly. "So how do I get in touch with you when I have an answer?"

"Yes, it would be very foolish and unwise if you leapt too eagerly!" Divale agrees with a light sneer to her voice. She would have likely withdrawn her offer too, had Ryott proved too forward! That there is no further title given doesn't surprise the brownrider. She merely tilts her head and blandly stares, as if silently asking the very question: 'is that all'? Yet, a name can give away so much and who is to say the Wingsecond doesn't have her ways of learning the rest. "Well met, then, Ryott. Would a sevenday suffice? I am in no immediate hurry." It will give her time to carefully lay down her own plans. It's a tricky web she spins! "No need to reach out to me. We can arrange a place and time to talk… Somewhere a little more secure than here?" Her hand lifts in a dismissive flick of the Bazaar. "If you show, then we will discuss details. If you do not, then I have your answer regardless."

Yes, that will be all she reveals. Ryott knows that she needs to keep her cards close to her chest if she's going to get out ahead here. "A sevenday works," she quips easily. As to a meeting place, she will shrug again, "Name the place and maybe you'll see me there." She could have suggested a couple of possible places, but that would again reveal more than she's comfortable with. She has no qualms whatsoever with letting the brownrider work if she wants to find out more about Ryott.

"Rooftops," Divale's extension of naming the place comes after a lengthy pause, where she pins Ryott under her dark, stoic gaze. A cold, flickering smile breaks her otherwise neutral expression. "Just above the painted alley. One of the top most rooms near the northern face has long since been abandoned." Her voice lowers again, to a quieter murmur. The sun is rising and in the distance, the Bazaar is beginning to wake as people venture out in larger numbers. Time is ticking down and this 'meeting' of theirs will need to swiftly conclude.

"Agreed." Ryott bobs her head in acquiescence, letting slip a half-smirk at the choice of location before once again schooling her expression to neutrality. Her own awareness of the rising sun is making her antsy to get going, she has chores to do before PT. "If that's all, I should get going," and she'll pause long enough to see if the brownrider has anything else to say, before she tips her head briefly in the woman's direction before ambling off around the next stall.

Divale dips her head, mouth grim set and her expression as cold as the stone around them. "A sevenday." she confirms and begins to turn to meld back into the last of the shadows. "Do stay out of trouble?" It will be the last thing she says to Ryott and a hint of laughter laces her voice. Could be a trick of acoustics too, who can say? The Wingsecond does not linger, however. Now that their business is concluded, she is moving on.

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