Divale, Eala, Kaelige, Ramita


Some shady and not so shady business going on… i.e.: a normal evening in the Bazaar

Late posting because mom brain strikes again…


It is evening of the fourth day of the eighth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Out of Business Business, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 30 Mar 2018 04:00





Out of Business Business

Just a hole in the wall, the sort of place that hardly draws a glance by those passing by- and perhaps that's why this little shop went out of business. Two men standing with arms outstretched and fingers touching could span the width of the shop, from one side to the other. The feeling of space is provided by spotless whitewashed adobe walls, the open windows that hold no glass but do have shutters, and a door with only a heavy curtain to keep the public out. Another doorway at the back leads to a miniscule nook that's intended to be an office.

This sort of corner of the Bazaar is no strange thing. While some locals are jam-packed with businesses selling their wares, wagons and tents erected in the most obscure places just to make room, this corner is a little less.. friendly. It's the sort of corner that no place stays for long, where the security is maintained not by the guards, not by Parhelion, but by those that are paid off to not destroy the windows and lay ruin to whatever was the owner's livelihood within. This is that place, deep within the crossways of alleys that make one nauseated by the very power of the urine, vomit, booze and metallic-taint of blood that has soaken into every cracked pebble of the walkways and the sandy grit inbetween them. One hole in the wall that has long since had its windows shattered and nothing left to speak of on the shelves inside has three men murmuring semi-quietly to each other. One sounds angry, one sounds nervous, and one doesn't speak at all. The third sits oddly, one boot tucked up under him, the other hanging as he seems to be perched just askew the window, using its angle to shield the exposed side of his body for easy viewing.. or as an easy target. "Where is it?" The latter would finally say as the two have started talking over each other, escalating the volume. That question is eerily calm. Calm in the way of the one who holds all of the power, despite no weapon visible. "I told you. You had two days. I was.. so gracious, that this is in fact day three." Silence. Then "We.. we can have it in a seven! Please!"

As repulsive and oppressive as these side streets are, there is one who prowls them with familiarity. That isn’t to say that some bolt holes and shadier over-looked derelicts such as these go overlooked from time to time! Shadows grow longer as evening descends and while the men inside “talk”, there is another lurking outside. Crouched and hidden (for the time being and so she assumes), Divale merely observes, as patient as any predator. For all appearances, she would appear alone and without the typical Parhelion-allied Guard partner, but that’d be a risky gamble to say they aren’t nearby (and too easily summoned).

Stick to the right streets of the Bazaar and it could be easy to pretend that the world is a safe and happy place where the only disagreements are minor and mostly about haggling over the prices of wares. But wander just a few streets over and any of those rosy assumptions will quickly be washed away (perhaps in the flow of that ever-present urine smell). Business can take Ramita many places and tonight, more discretion is required than usual. No Steen colors on the woman tonight, just muted browns and a borrowed full face veil although her ice blue eyes are carefully watching the entire scene. Her male companion follows silently beside as she careful picks a path to skirt as far from the altercation as the alley will allow, but still moving forward.

The man just out of view doesn't say anything for a moment, as if he's taking time to consider. It's a weight that bares down on the situation, as if all await judgement. A finality. The conclusion of debts owed and the mobid taxes chained to them. There's a tilt of his head, a bit of his shadowed silhoutte and messed dark hair seen 'round the corner. And he grins. He sighs, lifting a hand in an odd, awkward, dismissive shrug. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure." Even that doesn't sound good for them, not on the basis of how this all started. "I suppose I'll just have to see you in a seven. I'm sure we can.. work out the details at a later date, hm?" There's more mumbling, some scrounging about of fabrics or leather, likely the rucksacs that the two men quickly reset in place upon their backs and exit the building at rather eager pace. The sound of Kaelige's boot scuffs against the stone of the windowsill as he angles himself a little better, and he leans on an arm upon the black, rough weyrhide that covers his propped up leg. "Sneaking about doesn't tend to award a woman many favors, not on these streets. Enjoying the show?" Although attention was drawn to the predatorial Divale, light eyes flick upwards to Ramita and her follower. Patient, waiting. Curious.

Divale’s attention is briefly turned away as Ramita and her male companion enter into view and her posture shifts, tensing. Well, damn if that isn’t unexpected! It’s for that reason that her dark gaze flicks back a second or so too late to get an entirely clear view of the two men who depart and she silently curses the missed opportunity to clearly mark them. No matter! As more pressing an issue presents itself when she is more or less directly spoken to by Kaelige. “I am not the average woman,” comes her shadowed reply, dry as ever and hinting at an unseen and mirthless smirk. Seconds of silence stretch on and there’s no forthcoming answer on whether or not she’s been entertained by what she’s witnessed here; could be she’s equally as curious to Ramita’s path.

Ramita's path is slow and leisurely. She's not in a hurry to get wherever it is she's going and honestly seems more concerned with trying to reasonably avoid the puddles of mystery substances on the streets. It's Igen in summer. There should not be puddles. Her companion is keeping his eyes much more on the departing men and the third remaining. He'll seize up those remaining and like any good escort, try to position himself between charge and possible threat. The Steen's not exactly cooperating with that however as her next puddle-avoidance maneuver has her taking a few steps closer. There's a bit of a snort at the question and Divale's report, but she doesn't say anything for the moment and keep what anonymity her veil and silence might allow from the wingsecond for the moment.

There's no Eala to be seen, at least not yet. Instead, there's a petite green firelizard who wings her way into the area, coming in to land on Divale's shoulder. She attempts to nibble at the brownrider's hair — but for all that she's likely messing with the woman's dignity in this situation, she should at least be familiar. Likely her master can't be too far behind, either.

"You look pretty average from my point of view." Whether that's true or not is hidden behind the crooked grin of the rogue's shadowed, angle-obscured features. That tone of his, a watered-down Bitran sort of accent, clearly having been in Igen or at least somewhere else for awhile to lose the thick of it. The chilly neutral that he seems to be doesn't seem pressured or changed by sudden company, but his interest grows in the proceedings of the Steen woman. An atypical length of silence would pass as ice-hewn eyes follow her, ignoring the wingsecond's presence, social standards for adhering to conversation going grossly unmet. Eventually, "How long do you plan on staying there?" Off-handedly spoken, still more interested in the Steen's path of travel than the one snooping on his goings-on. "Even your little friend looks bored of your game." A gross misinterpretation of the firelizard's antics, but he's unlikely to care.

Can silence be akin to chuckled bemusement? It seems that way, at least until Divale speaks again. Social standards are largely ignored all around in situations like this and she’s not about to just stroll on out and cheerily make introductions! “For as long as it suits me,” she quips right back to Kaelige. Eala’s green firelizard is, indeed, familiar and Divale will put up with the antics for the time being; though that the green has hair to chew on means the brownrider is in need of a haircut (by her standards). She’s content too to keep up with the charade that the firelizard is one of her own for the time being. “Is it a game?” Smirking, her gaze flicks again to Ramita, along with a quick frown. Does the Steen woman have business here or is this just a very peculiar crossing?

Although it hasn't been completely proven that Ramita can't travel forever, reason would dictate that she has to come to a stop eventually and that is apparently now, exactly in front of Kaelige and Divale. The woman's own icy eyes flicker over the pair for a brief moment before she tilts her head politely towards the rider. The man is mostly ignored for the moment. "Good evening, wingsecond, but you seem to be standing in my way." Oh the unique sound of turns in Benden mixing with that Igen upbringing. Very little she can do to actually hide her own distinctive accent from those that might know it, and so she's not going to hide it as she points to the very building their standing in front of, complete with shuttered windows and a possibly locked door?

Delta nips at whatever she can get of Divale's hair, hopefully not taking too much of it out in the process. She chirps idly, seemingly innocent were it not for the fact that the green seems keenly focused on whatever is going on here. She's not always the best spy, but it seems she's making an effort now. She flutters her wings, making a little show of settling into her place on Divale's shoulder as she relays fragments to a certain greenrider. Sure enough, the sound of more footsteps soon herald Eala's arrival, as the blonde makes her slow approach. She doesn't leap in to interrupt as yet, but she doesn't attempt to hide in the shadows, either.

"It doesn't suit you." The words drift as his head moves from the corner of the paneless window. The sound of shifting comes then, that sort of leather-on-gritty stone rubbing that's softer than it should be. Footsteps in the dusty interior of the building likely only used for interactions such as what just was cut short by meddling Parhelion are evident, but quiet and utterly unhurried. When he does appear around the corner of the forelorn buisiness' entryway, he bares a hood that shades him heavily, his posture squared, bold, but slouched slightly at the shoulder, hands in his pockets. His grin, visible now that he's come into what faint light dares enter this realm of the Bazaar, is unkind, certainly lacking the warmth of one that might be so open to company. The amusement of him is cold as he entertains the moment for a bit more of his precious time, his too-light eyes falling to Divale now that he can take her in fully. "Not that it's hard to offend a Steen, but it looks like I'm not the only one you're bothering tonight." Ramita may not wear anything openly expressing her family, but it's much his business to know people. Eala's arrival- that seems to change something about him. That grin flickers, wanes by a degree, but then returns thinner than before, expression darkening with humored sarcasm. "Oh, what a pleasure this is."

“My apologies.” Divale mutters to Ramita and lacking any sincerely, when the Steen woman addresses her formally. She’ll hold the woman’s gaze for a lingering second before dipping her head in a minute gesture and stepping aside and only as far as it takes her to be more or less alongside Eala now. Cautious as ever, her back will never fully turn to Kaelige, though she’ll give him a long, cold stare. Why does something nag at the back of her mind? His earlier comment is ignored, as Divale favours to answer only his second remark with a low scoff and nothing more. Delta can remain on her shoulder too, as the brownrider doesn’t shoo her away even with the greenrider now present. Instead, the Wingsecond favours Eala with a grim sideglance and silence.

"It's easier for some than others, to offend my family," For Ramita knows there no point in denying it now, but she will turn her gaze up and over towards Kaelige. "Because isn't that why you grace us with your presence now? Offended the guards so much they let you out early to become someone else's problem?" Even if Divale is moving aside, she's momentarily distracted from actually getting to the door and the only one the vintner's back is to would be her own shadow of an escort and Eala.

If Eala recognizes Kaelige, it doesn't show in her expression. She has seen quite a few people come and go from Igen's brig after all, so it would be perfectly understandable if one of two faces slipped her mind. "I don't believe the Steens are bothering anyone tonight, actually," she says cooly, watching as Ramita clears the path to the door with her words. She seems less concerned with who she can't see, which may mean that she hasn't come alone — or else the greenrider is just overly self-assured. A meaningful glance is sent toward Divale, accompanied by a silent question passed through other channels. For the moment, the woman doesn't appear worried. She's merely here to oversee, nothing more.

"Ah, so you've heard of me." Kaelige has stepped back amidst the interaction, letting the delightful blight of the corrupted surroundings keep the details of him in general in some sense of obscurity. His pride is an evident thing, though, his expression a bit more polluted with evident amusement than it had been when the crowd continued to grow. "I didn't grace you with anything, not this time around. I can save that for another day. I'm sure I will have the pleasure of dealing with you soon enough." 'You' seems to comprise the Steens as a whole while referring to Ramita. "In fact.." The shadow-encompassed man drawls, raising a hand to rub at the scruff of his chin as he so thoroughly thinks on what had come to mind, that hind covered too in a glove to continue the trend with so little of him being exposed despite the summer months befallen the region. "I do believe I was minding my own business." Another step back, and clearly he's starting to allude to impending his exit down the scum-ladened alleyway to his back, "And I have plenty of that to get back to." Less so, in the company of the wingleader and wingsecond of the guard wing. A broader, venemous smile curls upon him as he tilts his head in a mockery of a vague bow before he'd turn away.

Isn’t that a lovely little tidbit that Ramita dishes out? Divale’s honed in on it, dark gaze settling back on the Steen woman for the remark on offending Guards and being released early. As swift as a heartbeat, that very gaze darts back to Kaelige, along with a slight tilt of her head in bemused, shadowed, interest. Their exchange, even if brief, is also carefully noted and observed without comment; save for a quirk of her mouth into a vague, wry smirk. Eala will be debriefed on what happened here in her absence, all done unknowingly through Lukoith to Oriahysciath. Which may explain her extended delay in any verbal response; it takes considerable focus to split attention like that and not wholly give oneself away. “I’m sure you do,” Divale’s cold reply and she resists the temptation to gesture dismissively with her hand. Venomous smile and all does little to bring much of a reaction from her, though she’ll keep her gaze on him even as he retreats, not to be followed. At least, not by her.

Even with three-quarters of her face being obscured, Ramita's got the art of the dubious eyebrow raise absolutely perfected for the Akzhan's comments, although his departure will not earn even a nod of farewell. Once he might be questionably out of ear shot, she shakes her head slightly to the two riders. "Oh dear. It seems like you both may have intimidated him away." Although the words are as dry and uncaring as the sands of Igen themselves as she digs into her sleeve to pull out a key. She really did have business to attend to at this not-so-out-of-business-business tonight.

"Don't let me catch you around here again, Kaelige." It's the only acknowledgment Eala gives as the man walks away. She'll leave Divale to eye his exit, still sporting that utter lack of concern despite the hard warning of her previous words. Her response is similarly a beat delayed as silent communication ensues, until she finally glances toward Ramita handling that key. "Is this yours, then?" She casts a glance toward Divale, because this probably means a few extra patrols around his area until people get the idea that it's not just a dark, abandoned corner anymore.

Divale catches Eala’s glance and merely shrugs. It’s no bother to her if this is tacked on as added patrol; some Guards and other Parhelion riders may grumble about it but the brownrider actually likes to prowl around. It’s better that way, that she isn’t left idle for too long! A bored Divale is a dangerous one. “Did you hear that, Eala? We’re intimidating. All that hard work paid off…” Quiet, near murmured but dry as ever sarcasm before she smirks. A shake of her head has her chuckling under her breath and turning to Ramita. “Or viewing it before purchase? Regardless… it’d be a bold venture.” Given the location! Speaking of… “I’m going to go do a quick sweep of the alleys those other two went down.” Muttered more for Eala’s sake, but as a general warning of her departure. No formalities here, Divale will just turn away and venture down another path until either she’s completed her task or she’s called back.

"For the moment," Ramita gives a brief shrug. She at least has permission to be at the vicinity for the time being. Stealing a key isn't something the vintner would have need to do. "But if it doesn't quite suit my needs, it may end up being returned…" To whoever the original owner of the somewhat rundown business might be. But since key is in hand and it does indeed work in the lock, she'll give a nod of farewell to both the riders and open up her glow basket before heading indoors with her escort. It won't be long that they're departing, back to parts of the bazaar where you don't have to be on constant look out for the urine-stained cobbles along with other nasties lurking in corners.

"Hopefully it suits." Eala is gracious in this, at least, even though it's clear that her attention is straying toward the departing brownrider and the prospect of setting up further patrols. Speaking of which… "Someone should be available now," is muttered to herself, as the greenrider casts one last glance around the area before departing to track down someone to patrol this newly-occupied space.

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