Divale, Ryott


Ryott asks Divale to meet her at one of their old meeting spots to conclude a little bit of business, with some interesting consequences.


It is night of the sixteenth day of the tenth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Rooftops, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 19 Dec 2018 05:00



"Punctual as ever, I see."


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 seventy-sixth day of Autumn and 84 degrees. A cloud appears on the horizon, familiar to Igen natives, swelling across the blue skies quickly. Sand blows across the weyr, pelting everyone and everything until it blows itself out. The fine sands, raised by the strong winds, penetrates the ears, eyes, nose, and throat.

Late night finds the autumn air cool but not unpleasant; it's that delightful in-between of seasons where temperatures are actually tolerable at almost all hours. The Weyr is quiet, for the most part now. Many have long since finished their daily tasks and have returned 'home' to sleep. Only a few night owls and late-types are out, either by choice or necessity. Then there are those who are, of course, up to entirely different things. An earlier storm almost ruined plans, but it has long since passed and even the winds have died down with it. All that remains is a clear sky and the almost full moons to cast an eerie light over the rooftops. It'd be beautiful, if the one who is lurking in an familiar spot was there to moon gaze. Even so, Divale isn't lurking so much in the shadows as she gazes skywards, as if entranced by that light ? or merely lost in thought. She was summoned here, after all and while she long since tore up the message sent to her via gold firelizard, she heeded the instructions. Now she waits on the assumption that the sender knows her well enough that lack of reply meant her terms were agreeable…

Night time is a favorite of a certain shadow that haunts the Bazaar, and right now Ryott is slipping quietly through the darkness and over the rooftops to the meering she arranged. It's been over two months since they met by Crater Lake and she offered Divale a little business. It had gone a little sideways when Ryott decided to test the merchandise to prove it is what she said it was. So maybe she had been avoiding the brownrider, or maybe she has just been busy with..other things. Either way, the girl has undergone a bit of a transformation. Hair has grown out of her usual short crop, but more surprisingly are her clothes, and the fact that she seems to have given up trying to look like a boy. Gone are the oversized layers of tunics and baggy shorts hiding her feminine form, replaced with a short sleeved tunic that is actually fitted to her form, overtop which she wears a short jacket paired with wherhide pants that fit her like a second skin. Around her eyes, thickly smudged kohl gives her usual dark gaze a smokey mysteriousness that makes them seem to pop. As she spies the brownrider, she clears her throat so that she's not accused of sneaking up on her.

Business going awry isn't so unusual but Divale made it a point not to reach out to Ryott over those months. Was she concerned? Perhaps. Good luck ever prying that confession out of her though! Even though the girl clears her throat, she doesn't turn away from where she's gazing, ever upwards. "Punctual as ever, I see." she speaks instead, voice lowly murmured in her usual shadowed tone. Little has changed with her. She wears her usual androgynous style clothing, all cut to suit her lean frame yet favour neither overly masculine or feminine designs. Nothing further is spoken for several long seconds before she finally tears her gaze away from the moons and turns to face Ryott properly. Notably, her gaze appraises her and the too-obvious changes but her expression remains largely emotionless and cold. All save the smirk that eventually half-curves her lips. "And growing up too. How sweet." A compliment all but drowning in sarcasm.

"Were you waiting long?" Ryott asks dryly before taking the last few steps forward and stopping next to the brownrider. Crossing her arms over her chest, she watches as Divale takes in her new look, a smirk on her lips and a roll of her eyes for the sarcastic compliment. "You like my new look? Thought you might. Decided it was time to retire the boy's clothes." She flicks a hand lazily and dismisses with the pleasantries now observed. "So…I still have something I'm looking to unload. You know it's the real deal, we established that last time," she says, trying hard to keep her face in its neutral mask, but there's a light bloom of pink over the bridge of her nose. She's had flashes of memories from her time intoxicated, and she hates that she acted such a fool in front of the frosty brownrider. "So I just need to know if you're interested, or know anyone who would be interested in what I'm looking to sell," at those words, she pats her jacket gently, right over her heart, indicating that she's come prepared to deal.

Despite the quirk of her brow, it's difficult to tell if Divale is truly interested or if she's merely attempting to needle the younger girl some more. "Why? Are you trying to impress someone? Because if that's all there is to it, that was a terrible choice on your part." If she is so eager to cut right down to the chase, she won't press things further. She'll keep her cold gaze on Ryott the whole time the girl explains her reason for summoning her and while she is wholly unsurprised, there's a faint hint of annoyance that flickers in her gaze. Then she's smiling in all the wrong ways, as she oh-so casually muses: "Or maybe I just push you off the edge of this rooftop? It'd save me the trouble." Deadpan seriousness, her expression not changing even with the idle threat. She'll hold that tense moment, keeping her gaze locked on Ryott's the whole time before she relents with a low throated chuckled-sigh. "You're becoming a thorn in my side with your arrogance and stubbornness, Ryott. Lucky for you, I still find you entertaining enough. So," Her features smooth again, neutral and unreadable. "Say I do accept your offer. What is your price?"

"Nah, just trying something new," Ryott has to retort, with a little bite to her coldness, prickliness resulting from Divale's needling. When the brownrider makes her threat, she scoffs loudly, her smirk deepening. "Awww, don't be like that. Imagine how boring life would be without me…" she replies, holding onto the other woman's gaze with her own, unblinking and dark, but her body tenses just a bit as the moment drags on. She only relaxes when she hears that low chuckle. "Well, whenever you get tired of associating with me, I'm sure you'll let me know." Putting one hand on her hip, she shifts her weight to her other foot and considers Divale with a sweep of dark eyes as she tilts her head a little bit, taking a moment to think. She's not sure exactly what the market value of a vial of deleri is, but she knows she needs a nice little cushion for what she's planning. "Fifteen marks." she states boldly, aiming a little high and hoping she's not asking a ridiculously high or low amount. But she knows how things go in negotiations, she fully expects a much lower counter-offer.

Divale doesn't respond to much of the previous conversation and the only reaction gained from her is for the amount Ryott gives. Her boldness for such a claim has her staring, bewildered, at the girl before she begins to laugh; it's a low, gruff sort of laugh but at least it sounds somewhat genuine? Rather than the empty cold laugh she's good at. "You are offering me one opened vial of deliri and potentially contaminated now… and you've the audacity to try to ask me for such an outlandish price? I am not a Lady Holder. I am a rider and we do not sit on riches. Either you will have to settle for far less or you will need to ask me for something else. And don't think on threatening me to go to another seller. You won't find any, with that asking price. They're more likely to just cut your throat…" She spreads her hands helplessly. "Or worse. So, think again and think hard, Ryott. What are your terms?"

Ryott tries to pass off her wince at Divale's gruff laughter as an annoyed narrowing of her dark eyes. Shards! Went too high. she thinks to herself as she moves to cross her arms under her breasts, yes she actually has them all of a sudden. Her mien is stormy as she draws thick brows together, causing a crease between them and drops her gaze to the rooftop as she seems to be re-considering. "Sorry, dealing in illicit substances is a little new to me," she snaps back coldly, with a hiss of sarcasm. With a huffing sigh, she lifts her eyes again to meet the brownrider's. "8 marks then…." and one can almost see when the glow goes off above her head and lips curl into a wicked smirk. "And two questions answered honestly…" It's a bold move, and maybe still a little high, but she definitely looks like she's willing to negotiate.

"Careful," Divale almost growls, yet her lips curl into a wicked smirk and that dangerous sort of amusement is back and visible in her dark gaze. "You're only further damning yourself by openly admitting your inexperience. Consider this a valuable lesson? Know your product, know your buyers. Consider all risks and outcomes." Now that they're back to negotiations, she exhales heavily and grimaces, only to narrow her gaze to a near glare when Ryott ups the stakes in another manner. Relenting a bit, now her mouth curves into a smirk; she looks close to impressed. "Ahh. Now you're thinking more like a trader in illicit goods. It is not all about the marks." She takes a moment, however, to weigh the renewed terms, glancing skywards to those moons again as though they have the answers. When she speaks again, her gaze is delayed in sliding back to her. "Three marks." she speaks firmly, without hesitation. "As the truth is invaluable to me, you are asking much." But unlike marks she doesn't have, she CAN give information… even if grudgingly.

Ryott wrinkles her nose in distaste a bit at Divale's warning, but she holds her position and keeps her expression otherwise neutral. She doesn't like coming off as ignorant, but better in front of this particular brownrider than anyone else. It's not exactly like she could ask her teachers the best way to sell a substance that could get her in dire trouble should she be found with it in her possession. "You know, by now, that I'm a quick study," she drawls dryly, tacitly accepting the woman's advice. Her eyes roll a little bit at Divale's firm offer, but she needs to get rid of this stuff, every day it's in her possession is putting her in danger of discovery. "Four?" she asks hopefully, "There's a lot in there. I'll even throw in a question you may ask of me…." It's a risk, a HUGE one, but Ryott sets her jaw, determined.

The look that Divale levels Ryott with after the 'quick study' comment speaks volumes on her not quite believing the girl. That is neither here or there and the brownrider doesn't want to spend most of the night bickering with a stubborn teenager. She'll pick up on that desperation too and from the near-feral smile that blossoms next will give Ryott plenty of hint that she jumped right into a trap. "Oh, now that is a tempting offer and risk!" she murmurs dryly. "Four marks, two truthful answers and one question to be answered with equal honesty? Mhm." Shifting to take the few steps required to close the distance between them, she holds out her hand, palm flat. "The vial first. Then the questions and lastly the marks." Her tone hints that she will be far less unyielding to exceptions to that order.

Ryott is trying really hard not to twitch from nervousness, but there's no going back now. Maybe the girl's penchant for boldness (read: recklessness) will be her eventual downfall, but that's a tomorrow problem. Right now, she merely focuses on the fact that she seems to have hit on the thing that could tempt the rider and takes a covert deep breath to steady herself. Fighting an urge to take a step back when Divale moves towards her, she uncrosses her arms and then reaches into her short jacket and retrieves a small package wrapped in thick cloth. She silently opens it and shows Divale the same vial she showed the rider before, there's even a bit of wax seal still around the mouth and it looks just as full as before. When she's given her time to examine it, she wraps it back up and then places the whole thing on the brownrider's flat palm. Dropping her hands to stuff into her pockets, she brings her shoulders up around her ears, "So do you want to go first, or should I?"

Divale displays nothing but calm, unsettling patience as she waits on Ryott's decision. When the vial is finally produced and then placed in her hand, she wastes little time in closing her fingers over it and the cloth. With just as much care, she tucks it away in a hidden inner pocket of her clothing and looks, for all intent and purposes, rather smug. It could be a cover for the fact that she now has to honour the other half of this bargain, though she isn't nearly as concerned as she was when she was cornered by a certain dangerous bronzerider. "Given that I just got one part of our deal, it seems only fair that you are honoured your turn next. Two questions and no more than that, to be answered truthfully."

Ryott watches that vial disapear on Divale's person, and her shoulders relax, as if a weight has literally been lifted off them. She tries to school her relief into indifference at the woman's smugness. When she is graciously allowed to go first, Ryott chuckles coldly, "Sure, can't argue with that logic. Let's see…" she tilts her head to one side and lets her gaze thoughtfully give the brownrider a once over. "Let's keep it simple with the first one. Where are you from…originally?" Seemingly innocent question delivered with simple inquisitiveness. Although nothing's ever simple when it comes to Ryott. Because her next question is one she's wanted to ask Divale for awhile, ever since the man she was sent to spy on mysteriously died of a sudden illness. And it won't be an easy one to ask. "Have you ever killed anyone?" It's delivered with a steely edge as she sets her jaw firmly and dark eyes flash as she waits for the answers.

It's difficult to say if Divale is uneasy or unsurprised by the choice of Ryott's questions; she could very well be caught in some stormy myriad between the two and Faranth only knows what sort of conflicting emotions. Her shoulders tense and her hands curl into fists briefly before she forces herself to relax. Lifting her arms up, she'll cross them loosely over her chest and frown heavily, her dark gaze settling firmly on the young girl before her. Silence weighs heavily and any pressure to speak before she's ready will likely have the brownrider sniping something venomous in correction. If she's left to go at her own pace, Ryott will get the answers she seeks. A deal is a deal, isn't it? "Before Igen Weyr, I was part of the Underground, which is now Kurkar Hold." she states, which the girl already knew in part. "Before that? Deep in a remote area of Lemos." Her smirk is bitter and tinged with something else. Grief? Or is it long festering anger? "And before you can call me out on withholding the name, I'll tell you truthfully that it is unnecessary. No sense keeping a name to a place that no longer exists." And never DID, according to certain records… The second question brings a dark, without a shred of remorse, kind of smile to her features. "Yes. When I was about your age and with my own hands. Recently? Indirectly." She didn't name her first victim, because Ryott did not phrase the question well enough to warrant that. However, she knows the girl is smart enough to put two and two together for the other and so, gives that information. "It is a complicated matter but to put it simply: it was blood debt repaid." In other terms, it was revenge. "A mercy, really, given the amount of strife he and his allies caused my bloodline and family." Divale says nothing else after that, turning a bit to keep Ryott at her side while she gazes back at those moons. It's like that that she'll wait on Ryott's reaction… or lack there of.

Ryott seems to have no problem with letting Divale take her time in answering. She doesn't look impatient or offer pressure. As much as the brownrider may try to deny it, the girl has learned a thing or two about her in the last couple of turns of aquaintance. Pushing never works. And when her patience is rewarded with much more thorough answers than she was expecting, she can't help her brows hiking a little in suprise. Absorbing the answers, she nods subtly as her gaze goes thoughtful. When Divale answers the second question, she can't help a little slackness in her jaw in shock as she listens as she actually justifies herself. With a shrug and a bit of a shake of her head when she's finally done with her answers, she gives the woman a sidelong glance as she's busy looking up at those moons. "I followed the guy for months, you don't have to justify yourself to me," she replies simply, voice losing a touch of it's hardened edge. "So your turn. Ask away." She tries to paint a picture of someone completely unconcerned by whatever she could come up with.

"Don't I? It took a deal for you to ask me the question." Divale remarks dryly, still gazing skywards. Eventually, she lowers her head again and fixes Ryott with a sidelong look. Her features are expressionless again, though her voice doesn't carry any edge to it. Just the usual ghostly touch, where she speaks as cool but lowly like the autumn winds. "Who do you truly answer to, either as employer, family or both? I never did buy your story of being nothing more than a Bazaar brat. Your skills betrayed that cover story." Now she wants to know if her assumptions were correct or off the mark.

Ryott had an idea of the question she was likely going to be asked, but the way Divale words it makes her groan softly under her breath. "Technically, you're asking for two answers…" she observes in an attempt to buy herself some time. The first answer is easy enough, but the second is going to be a little more difficult. "As for family, you're right. I'm not a bazaar brat. I'm a caravan brat…Zingari to be specific." That was the easy bit. For the next, she pinches the bridge of her nose. "The other…to reveal it is to put my entire future in jeopardy. I can't do that unless I can trust you will not, under any circumstance, reveal this information to anyone, ever." Her tone is complete seriousness now, her eyes even have a subtle pleading to them, as if she desperately hopes Divale won't push the issue.

There's only a knowing smirk when Ryott calls her on her trickery. Divale can be a wolf, a snake and perhaps tonight a bit of a kitsune for her nature, but it'll all serve as a valuable lesson for the young girl. Never underestimate anyone! She is fortunate that she is dealing with the brownrider who, though acts cruel, isn't so blackhearted as she comes off to be. "Mhm," she makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat, one that matches her complete utter lack of surprise. "I'd my assumptions you were Zingari but knew you'd never admit it freely. That, at least, gives me confirmation. As for the rest, keep that to yourself. I can hazard a safe enough guess here, though I am not privy to as much details as say…" She flicks a hand almost lazily to her. Then her smirk turns mischievous. "You'll have to give my regards to S'ayde and Moanna sometime." Finished with that tangent, she'll turn back to business with a quieter, gruffer spoken. "I'll assume now too that you want your payment?"

Ryott doesn't even try to hide her relief when Divale doesn't press her to come out with the rest of it, knowing that she was let off easy in that regard. Maybe the lesson will hit home afterall not to underestimate people. When Divale asks her last, she nods curtly, "Yes please. Then I'll be on my way and out of your hair." Now it's the girl's turn to offer a flattened palm in Divale's direction.

It won't be Divale who is placing those coveted marks in Ryott's hands. That'll be a task left to Mercy, her gold firelizard, when she appears from Between to deliver the requested payment. As for Divale, she only smirks again and before the girl can ask, answers for her. "It'd be a foolish and costly rookie mistake to be carrying that much on my person through the Bazaar." In the end though, does it matter? Ryott got what she wanted and so did Divale, in a way. Curtly, she nods as a form of dismissing the girl and, silently, turns to ghost away; but she doesn't go far. Her steps take her a little closer to the roof edge and there she remains, head turned skywards again as she remains in the eerie glow of both moons.

Ryott blinks a little bit when Mercy pops in from between and drops the marks in her hand. "Neat trick, I'll have to teach Discord that, I'd be lucky to get the right amount from any of my blues," she drawls before closing her fist around the marks, after doing a quick count to make sure it's all there. Her hand disapears inside her jacket and when it comes back it's empty once more. "Pleasure doing business with you as always," she quips as she sees that dismissive nod, taking a moment to just watch the brownrider as she walks to the roof edge, hesitating as if there was something niggling at her. But she's risked enough for for the moment, even for her, and so, with a sigh, she takes her departure, using the dark shadows cast by the bright moonlight to slip out of sight and back into darkness, her old friend.

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