Divale, Ryott


Ryott meets Divale to accept her offer


It is sunset of the twenty-second day of the twelfth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Rooftops, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 15 May 2018 04:00


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"I like to keep people guessing,"


If you can find the handholds to haul your way up - and there are plenty, if you know where to look - then there is a hidden highway of tile and adobe that waits for knowing travellers to tread its path.A road best travelled by those sure of foot and able to stomach the occasional leap between buildings without falling victim to vertigo, the rooftops represent a quick and possibly convenient way of travelling about the bazaar; though don't be surprised if there's the odd shady opportunist willing to take a risk this high above what law lies below.

The view from up here is spectacular; rooftops, sun-bleached, weathered, beaten by time, spread like an uneven patchwork quilt from here to the very borders of the bazaar. Some flat, some tiled, some frequented and some abandoned - it's not unusual to find the odd potted garden, stored goods or even a precious chicken coop, locked down to protect the feathered denizens within its thread-protected casing.

The sounds of the bazaar are muffled, the scents blissfully so too, making it a potentially pleasant little getaway for those in need of a little peace and quiet to observe the skies, to travel the high walkways, or to simply soak in some of Rukbat's rays.

It is the twenty-second day of Winter and 40 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.

Shadows lengthen as the sun begins to set on another wintry day. The air is still and cold, as far as the desert climate is concerned. Most have retired inside, where there is promise of warmth and rest; it's not the case, however, in one small part of the Bazaar. Though, does it ever rest, truly? There is always some form of activity, whether it be on the streets below, within the various legal and less-so establishments or the very roofs above. It's upon one of these, that a figure waits, cloaked in the deepening darkness. Divale remains unmoving and quiet while she lurks and waits, dressed as sombre as her surroundings. The Wingsecond wears nothing to mark her easily as what she is, regardless if chance of being spotted are slimmer; there are still eyes about. Never hurts to err on the side of caution!

Sunset is a perfect time for a spyling like Ryott. The shadows are at their longest as she deftly traverses the rooftops, silent as a feline and just as nimble. Dressed all in leather dyed a matte charcoal, fitted pants over flexible shoes, hem of her dark tunic under a short leather jacket capped off by a knit scarf wound around the bottom part of her face. Sticking to the shadows until she gets to the appointed meeting spot, Ryott's sharp, dark eyes roam the immediate area until they fix on the figure waiting in the darkness. With a tilt of her shorn head to one side, she puts her hands on her hips, "So I'm here," she intones to the Wingsecond, her voice as deadpan as ever, even though there is the subtlest hint of deep curiosity in her eyes.

"And so you are!" Divale's voice drifts from the shadows, low and quietly gruff and dry as the desert itself. Unhurried, she moves forwards a few steps from her spot, enough that some of that fading light outlines her features. Not that she's any more expressive than the young girl herself. Her expression yields little, save for the vague smirk firmly in place. "Would you believe if I admitted I am surprised? Pleased, at the very least, not to be left disappointed." she murmurs, while keeping her gaze fixed on Ryott. What little amusement may have bled through to taint her voice now sobers on the next breath. "Shall we cut straight to it, then?"

"I like to keep people guessing," Ryott responds impassively as she stays where she is, not moving a muscle as Divale slowly advances on her. Dark eyes take note that the brownrider isn't wearing any identifying features, remembering that she did the same in the Auction Yard, silently filing that information away in her memory. The change of tone in the older woman's voice is noted as well as she dips her chin in the barest of nods, "Sure," she answers succinctly to Divale's last.

Divale scoffs for Ryott's impassive response, giving the young girl another searching look. She must find nothing of note to make her second guess this path or what little shred of trust she's about to extend to her. There is a quirk of her brow, when she's offered no questions or hesitation on the other's part. "It's nothing grand, I'm afraid," she begins, pitching her voice lower now to be almost a whispered breath. Her hand lifts, moving slow so as not to bring any undue concern as it slips inside a hidden pocket within her heavy wherhide jacket. What she withdraws is equally as unexciting and yet is so important. It's nothing more than a worn slip of hide, but there is writing on it. Not Divale's, of course. She's taken meticulous care to erase as many chances of leads back to her. It's offered to Ryott, with a cooly spoken explanation. "The name there is of a man and the merchant family he's tied to. I need intel on him… His routines, mostly. Where he goes, who he speaks to — if you do not know their name, at least a description; family or allied ties would be best. You need not get too close; it's not so much their conversations that concern me at the moment." She stops there, to tilt her head expectantly to Ryott. Waiting, no doubt, for the girl's reaction.

It may be nothing grand, but Ryott is obviously taking it very seriously as her eyes drop to the scrap of hide offered in her direction. Scanning it briefly before she stuffs it into a pocket, she gives no outward indication as to whether or not she is familiar with the name scrawled there. "Nothing grand, but still a lot of work," she remarks significantly as she runs her hand over the soft brush of her hair in a thoughtful gesture, "Especially when I could be earning marks instead," she doesn't specify of course how she earns her marks, again she will let the brownrider fill in the blanks herself. "When do you need the intel by? Or is this more of an ongoing assignment?"

The moment that scrap is pocketed, there's a frustrated sound from Divale as she clicks her tongue and gestures with mild agitation with one hand. "Don't keep that," she points out, eyes narrowing darkly. "Commit it to memory and destroy it. You do not want evidence on your person!" Indeed, the next remarks made aren't lost on her. A ghostly smile curves her lips and her eyes flicker with a strange brightness to them. "We can discuss the terms of payment, if you wish. Is it marks, then, that you desire?" More is hinted at, but she won't play that out so freely. She's content to see just how Ryott plays this game, while maneuvering herself through it. "Ongoing. I will let you know when I am no longer in need of your… services."

Taking the brownrider's frustration in stride, Ryott raises a brow in Divale's direction, "Will do," she says of the scrap of hide, but she makes no move to do it right at that moment. She'll destroy it of course…eventually. When the woman offers to speak of payment, she stuffs her hands deeply into her pockets, hunching her shoulders up around her ears briefly. "I didn't say that," she quips back with a considered look, "I still like the original trade you put to me, I just hope the offer to turn a blind eye is as ongoing as the assignment." The truth is, the teen has a nice little cache of marks already, and could easily go without having to pickpocket for some time, she just wants to make sure the reward is equal to the risk she's taking by even accepting the job in the first place.

"Wise choice and if that is your preference? I see no reason to undo our previous agreement," Divale muses wryly, giving Ryott a lingering stare that is devoid of any warmth. What little brightness there is, is one of predatory leaning; she has want she wants out of this! And more, no doubt, to work and plot upon. Eventually she will glance across the rooftop, wary and alert. While they're guaranteed some privacy here, the brownrider has never fully relaxed. Reassured that they have not been seen or sought out, her attention drifts back. "Since you are already so familiar with him, I will send Eidolon to you, when I wish to check in. If you end up in trouble. however or need to meet with me before that… send one of your blues. I trust they are at least reliable in that sense?"

Ryott is taking mental notes as she joins the brownrider in sweeping the nearby rooftops to check to make sure they haven't been overheard. "Sounds good. Trouble's a bit better than Strife, but they are both decently trained, I started with them almost right out of the shell," she remarks with no hint of bragging, just stating fact. "Anything else I need to know?" she queries, her dark eyes trained on Divale, but her face, as always, betrays nothing of the workings of her mind as she waits patiently for any further instructions if necessary.

Divale nods, giving little hint to how she feels or if she even cares for that stated fact. The answer is satisfactory and so she moves on with their conversation. "Not at the moment," she states flatly, but levels Ryott with a pointed look. "Except to avoid getting caught… for obvious reasons. Do nothing that will make me regret this and I will remain amicable to my part of the deal." Brows lift, while her lips press in a thin line. Understood? Yet before Ryott is likely to answer, the Wingsecond is straightening and taking a small half-step back. "Unless you have questions, I consider our time here finished. Better we not linger long." Divale has her own business to attend to elsewhere, before the night is out! Details of which she is not about to share, but it's evident that the brownrider is looking to leave.

Ryott tries really hard not to scoff at the idea that she needs to avoid getting caught, but she registers the subtle threat in the woman's words, "Understood." At the brownrider's last she shakes her head just barely to indicate that she has no current questions. And since the woman seems to be in such a hurry, and Ryott is a girl of few words, she merely inclines her head in Divale's direction before heading off in the direction she came from, slipping soundlessly through the shadows until she disapears from view.

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