Possibly the rainiest place on Evelon, Baian stretches for miles along the southern coasts. Thanks to the moist soil rich in minerals, wildlife here have developed unique adaptations. To travel through this thick, muddy area, most either take specially designed boats. (+2 Offense)

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An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 1:18 PM

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The quiet of this place is almost disconcerting.

It isn't silence by any stretch of the imagination. The sound of oars slicing adamantly through the murky water, fighting against becoming stuck in the layers of mud beneath, creates rather a racket. It's the rest of it that's eerie; the occasional croak of a frog, the chirping of crickets, perhaps the cry of a bird in the treetops overhead. Nothing recognisable. There are no voices, and Lamia can't do anything without voices.

Why did he have to choose this miserable dump as the meeting place? Honestly, she'd had to don her finest boots just to protect herself against the filth, and it really wasn't worth that kind of effort. Or, she supposed it wouldn't be. The payouts from this guy's assignments is never satisfactory. Oh, well. She's here now, alone, annoyed, and eager to hurry up and get it over with.
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 1:44 PM

The boat coasts along with some nudging, towards the ramshackle hut Lamia can make out in the distance. What an unattractive thing. She'd thought the architecture would make up for the entirely undesirable property location, but she was clean out of luck once again. Yikes. Never again would she take her cushy high-rise apartment for granted.

A mosquito has the audacity to land on her exposed hand, and she swings her tail around to brush it off, curling her lip in disgust. If she didn't have to keep such a firm grip on the oars in fear of losing them to that muddy abyss, she would've squeezed the fool to death. Instead, she sighs dramatically and narrows her eyes.

Each stroke of the oars brings her closer to the wet land on which the hut perches, and thus hits the realisation that she'll need to walk in the mud to get to it. These poor boots. Immaculate leather tracked through all that disgusting stuff. She doesn't deserve this torment, it's inhumane. Not that she is human.
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 2:08 PM

The bow of the boat knocks against ground; or, rather, it slides against mud with a sickening squelchy sound. Lamia groans, agonised, as she stands precariously and peers at the thick brown slop marking her path to the hut. She swears she can hear that delicate leather crying in shame and disgust. Damn that man, damn him to the moon and back, for inflicting this suffering upon her. Speaking of which, where was the cur?

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To her relief, the door of the hut creaks open, and a head crowned with a mess of brown curls pokes out. The man smiles with plenty of teeth, sharp and insistent.

"Lamia. Nice of you to join me." He coos. Anger swirls in her gut immediately - this is not the time for joking, especially now her boat is beginning to somewhat wobble, like it's going to make a break for it any moment.

"Filth. Could you not help me out here? This is disgusting." She snarls in response, wedging one of her oars into the mud and using it to keep the boat nearby.

"Manners wouldn't do you any harm."
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 2:17 PM

"You disgust me on so many levels." Lamia throws the hood of her cloak back, relieved by fresh air against her skin; the humidity is unpleasant to say the least. "Come here or I'll just smoke outta here."

Cecil shrugs. He had been hoping to be treated to the show of her struggling not to fall over, but he'd rather this go without a hitch, and the more irate she got, the more likely it'd be that she would be true to her word and vanish. With a practised ease, he marches towards her, careful to keep his step as light as he can to avoid sinking. The swamp isn't his preferred location either, but at least they can be discrete and private here. No one would suspect that a pair as fashion conscious as them would dare get themselves dirty.

"C'mere, then." He has no bother in hoisting her up and over his shoulder. "Let's go, devil woman."

Lamia wants to have the energy to be enraged by him putting her hands on her like that. Unfortunately, rowing through a swamp takes it out of you. At least she doesn't have to walk.
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 3:22 PM

The interior of the hut is just as miserable and rickety as the exterior - Lamia doesn't know what she was expecting, but she still manages to be disappointed, huffing as Cecil sets her down. Her boots clack on the boarded floor. Mud is pushing through the gaps between the wooden planks like ugly brown slugs. It's all too much. She has to sit down before she suffers heart failure from the stress of the whole business.

Just as she's slumping into one of the very uncomfortable chairs, Cecil tuts, producing a worn journal from his coat pocket.

"Are they bottomless pockets or something? Teach me your ways." Lamia mutters, laced with sarcasm.

"I have a job for you." Cecil counters, without a care in the world.

"I'm aware of that. Are you going to keep wasting my time or are you going to tell me what you want from me?" There's no need for this conversation to be dragging out for as long as it is. She snatches the journal from him impatiently, flipping the cover open to start examining its contents.
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 3:36 PM

The writing is.. confusing, to say the very least. Scrawling lines of what appears to be random shapes and symbols, but clearly written by a master hand with devastating accuracy. It seems like it's moving, coming alive on the page. It is. It is, because it's starting to burn her, she can feel her fingertips being singed and her eyes stinging -

Lamia tosses the journal from her with a cry, and it lands with an unceremonious thump on the ground at Cecil's feet.

"What - what do you think you're playing at?!" She rubs her hands together, the pain shooting along her arms in sharp bursts. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Not personally, no." Cecil remains unaffected as he bends to pick it up, tucking it away once again. "Whoever wrote this might give it a go, though."

It makes a lot more sense all of a sudden. They're definitely not demonic runes, but they're some kind of ancient script, definitely. Something that she's some kind of allergic to.
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 5:33 PM

"What do you expect me to do about it, genius?"

It's a totally fair question. Whoever this person is, they could obviously fell Lamia in one strike with magic like this - they wouldn't even need to come close, they could do it by sending her a damn text. If she was distracted enough, it'd fly completely over her head and she'd end up reading her own death sentence. What a nuisance.

"You're a succubus. Seduce." Cecil replies, like it's the most obvious answer in the world. Lamia stares at him with utter disbelief.

"Listen, pal. I can do the seducing if you give me the target." She shifts on the chair; it makes a worrying creaking noise, like it's about to collapse under her weight, so she rises to her feet self-consciously. "I can't pull the guy or gal or whatever out of thin air just so I can give them a little somethin'-somethin'!"

"She is an angel, in case you haven't figured it out. Plus, she's nearby. I can get you there."
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 7:12 PM

Lamia sucks her bottom lip into her mouth with a pensive hum. Angels are relatively unheard of nowadays; at least, they are in her neck of the woods. To be fair, she does live in a dense community of demonic entities, but they tend to at least hear of angels flitting around the place like annoying blessed flies. Why are they bothering to crop up and cause trouble now?

"What am I supposed to do, though?" She rubs her temples with one hand, the heavy material of her cloak swishing around her as she moves. "She'll know straight away. They're not fairytale idiots, Cecil. They might be linked to clouds but that don't mean their heads are up there!"

"I can help with that." Cecil beams. A little vial of something purple and bubbly is clutched between two of his spindly fingers; it looks dodgy. "Kai helped me out."

"Oh, Kai, that gives me the vote of confidence!" Lamia's face contorts into an ugly expression of malice. "He would sell out his own brood for a candy bar. Fie, I won't have it."
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 7:22 PM

Cecil should've seen this coming. He might love Kai very much and think the sun shines out of his behind, but not everyone does - Lamia has been wronged by him, multiple times, and it was rather foolish of him to think she would accept this solution immediately. Even so, he refuses to show that he is fazed by her negative reaction, and instead steps towards her to lay a gentle hand on her arm.

"I swear he hasn't messed with this, Lamia." She whirls on her heel to argue, but is stopped in her tracks as she looks up at him. Those eyes. He's got beautiful eyes. Haunting eyes. "Don't you trust me?"

Lamia swallows. There's always something about Cecil that makes her shy against her very nature; he's like a magnet, drawing people in with ease and tossing them aside with just as little effort. It's alarming. She loves it.

Grumbling, she forcibly shakes loose of him. Staring any longer will get her caught up.

"No, I don't. Give me that." The vial is cold in her grip. For a random potion, it doesn't look too intimidating. "What will it do?"
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Re: An Appointment [Self]

Postby Isalynne » 03/20/2016 7:34 PM

"It should mask your demonic identity for a while." Cecil shoves his hands back into his pockets, standing back in fear of further repercussions should she grow angry again. "It won't last long, but long enough to take feathers out."

Lamia pops the cork and tosses it aside; no one else cares about housekeeping in this place, so why should she? The liquid smells of blackcurrant and something a little more bitter. It's not disgusting, which is a plus. The more she looks at it, the more appealing it looks. That's probably one of Kai's tricks too, just in case she had second thoughts. Sly dog.

"We've got a good payout for this one, L." Cecil's crooning voice refuses to leave her to her contemplations. It's good news this time, so she isn't as annoyed. "You won't regret it."

She knocks the potion back in one large gulp. Not even the dregs are left.

"Mm, you best hope I don't."
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