1. Discover the one thing that she's been absolutely terrified of anyone finding out.
August 26th - Sunday - Early afternoon
Three months. Zagan had endured three months of near nightly harassment from Roni in his dreams. But it was more than that. He was covered in bruises, healing cuts, thick heavy scars from the things the nightmare of a faerie had done to him in his dreams. Honestly after the first night he thought that his time was limited... but instead, she's haunted him, night in and night out. Invading his dreams. Maiming, beating, and otherwise leaving her mark on him. Like a slow method of torture, that was slowly, but surely working. He heard footsteps that weren't there, was paranoid, checking over his shoulder like she was only a few paces behind him. He had tried several times to find someone to combat what she was doing, or to get her to leave him alone, to no avail.... which all in all, led him to where he stood now.
On the threshold of the Dullahan courts, looking as every bit exhausted and disheveled as he felt. His hair at the most had been finger combed, and he wore a suit. Solid black, and rumpled, like it had been laying in a heap on the floor, and blue tie askew, and not quite tied right. Really, he's not sure why he had not come sooner. A couple words, a simple request, and there was nothing that the dream weaver would be able to do to avoid her fate. With a sigh of defeat, he gave up on trying to make himself appear any more presentable than he already was, and stepped forward with purpose. He had a problem to take care of.
The realm of the Dullahan was just a step away from the high courts. The headless horsemen served, not only as the reapers of souls but also as loyal knights to the Queens and Kings of faerie. Though so close to the opulent halls and courts of the seasons, this place held none of the beauty and all of the malice. An old fortress sort of place with old stone corridors and cold floors served as the barracks and home to the headless horsemen. Sconces of unnaturally colored firelight burst to life as he walked near them, giving off no heat but illuminating the passages.
After a time of wandering the hallways of locked rooms, he came across a courtyard, open to the strange swirling sky. Two figures paid him little mind, one, a petite brown skinned woman tending to the brushing and care of a gold and green striped tiger, who's emerald green flaming eyes tracked Zagan's every move. The other, was a rather lanky fellow with shaggy dirty blonde hair in a tattered brown duster, leaning against the wall and eating an apple...an air of laziness about him.
There was a reason why he never really made the effort to show up there. Plus, until this point he really hadn't much of a reason to come and ask for the dullahan services, except for some time long ago, when he had just only found himself in a status of position to do so. As his wanderings turned him out to a courtyard, his steps came to a slow stop, and his attention danced between the three there. The blonde man, the pretty little doll, and her pet. The latter of which was given a moment of careful consideration, before he started stepping forward, just a little.
"Hello. Is it possible to bother one of you for a moment of your time?" Polite and cordial, because really. He'd learned first hand that he didn't want to piss off a dullahan. His nose still sat a little crooked on his face from the last time.
The tiger rumbled a growl that reached into Zagan's bones, the only warning the businessman would get. The dark skinned woman had gems that dangled strategically on her forehead, making it look like a thin crown as well as a delicate chain that connected from a nose ring to one of the many rings that lined her ears. Bangles and rings decorated her hands and her almond eyes looked to Zagan briefly, slowly blinking at him but her attention returned to the big cat.
The cowboy in the duster looked over to Zagan and eyed him up and down, sizing him up before he snorted, "Got a set on ya t'come wanderin' on in here without an invitation there, buck-o." The man gave a wide toothy grin, "But...seein' as the Grey didn't rip your face off at the door, guess y'got some status. What ya want?"
The tiger's rumble, and the lack of interest shown by the woman tending to it was all the warning that he needed to leave her be. So he did, and nor did he move any further into the courtyard. Instead, his attention turned towards the Cowboy when he spoke, and couldn't help the faint smirk that pulled at his features. "You're not the first to say that." This was mused in response, while the american's following words had the amusement on his face growing. "What I want is simple. I would like to put in a request on Ronixi."
The wild west looking scruffy cowboy scratched said scruffiness along his jaw, "Y'would, would ya?" He looked him up and down again before giving a snort, "Would be simple....but seems we can't accommodate ya, Mister Status-man. Y'already invoked a cullin' on someone. Can't have you uppity sorts using us as assassins ALL the time." He smirked and pushed off the wall, tossing his apple core aside, licking his fingers of the juice, "So, swagger on outta here the way y'came."
He was going to respond to his question, when the american spoke again. Only this time his words have a touch of surprise bleeding across his features. "I already invoked one. Mmh. The years must be beginning to blend together." His feet shifted below him, before his attention settled on the other. "Tell me. Can I ask what the last name I put a request in on, was? Just to jog my memory. Then I'll be on my way and you can go back to enjoying your day."
The woman's almond eyes looked over to Zagan again, blinking slowly as she watched him and the cowboy thought a moment before answering, "...Couple years back, three or four, not long so your mind must be slippery than a new deck a cards." He snorted, "Fella named Lynch. Ol' Irish done the cullin' if memory serves...she'd know more but she's a little....indisposed." A wicked grin came to his face and a rough bark of a laugh. The Indian woman did not look amused.
"Lynch." Brennen. The man's first name popped into his head the moment he spoke the last. It was the name that Siobhan oh so many years ago had been working hard to earn Zagan taking care of the man for her. He never put the request in... but someone did. And honestly, was it a hard guess as to who had? Roni and Siobhan had been damned near inseperable for as long as he could remember... but the fault was nothing but his own. If he had never shoved Roni off on Siobhan, maybe none of them would be where they were now. Or... maybe the same thing would of happened, who knows.
"I remember now." The devious smirk pulling at his features speaks of the gears already running through his head. "And I'm well aware. I'm the one she attacked to get there. Tell her Zagan says Hi. And she's still welcome for me taking care of Brennen." There's a chuckle that rolled out of him, before he turned. "Thank you for your time, and sorry for the intrusion."
The cowboy Dullahan grinned, flapping a hand, "Glad t'be of service, your Courtly-ness." He gave a flourish and bowed, "Yeah...more of a headache for us but it'll be over soon, I wagers, got a lotta power in that Irish blood to transfer."
"Of course. I wish you all the speediest of times, and the least of a headache." That was offered simply, before he was disappearing around a corner, a bounce in his step that had not been there on his arrival. Roni had lost her ground again, and he's pretty damn well certain that there was little in the way that she would be able to get one up on him again. One sentence would ruin absolutely everything she had managed to accomplish. One sentence could end up with her life coming to an end. All he had to do was speak of the fact that he did not place the request on Brennen.
All was becoming right with his world again. He just hoped Roni was ready, because she was going to reap what she sowed with three months of slow torture.
August 26th - Sunday - Early afternoon
Three months. Zagan had endured three months of near nightly harassment from Roni in his dreams. But it was more than that. He was covered in bruises, healing cuts, thick heavy scars from the things the nightmare of a faerie had done to him in his dreams. Honestly after the first night he thought that his time was limited... but instead, she's haunted him, night in and night out. Invading his dreams. Maiming, beating, and otherwise leaving her mark on him. Like a slow method of torture, that was slowly, but surely working. He heard footsteps that weren't there, was paranoid, checking over his shoulder like she was only a few paces behind him. He had tried several times to find someone to combat what she was doing, or to get her to leave him alone, to no avail.... which all in all, led him to where he stood now.
On the threshold of the Dullahan courts, looking as every bit exhausted and disheveled as he felt. His hair at the most had been finger combed, and he wore a suit. Solid black, and rumpled, like it had been laying in a heap on the floor, and blue tie askew, and not quite tied right. Really, he's not sure why he had not come sooner. A couple words, a simple request, and there was nothing that the dream weaver would be able to do to avoid her fate. With a sigh of defeat, he gave up on trying to make himself appear any more presentable than he already was, and stepped forward with purpose. He had a problem to take care of.
The realm of the Dullahan was just a step away from the high courts. The headless horsemen served, not only as the reapers of souls but also as loyal knights to the Queens and Kings of faerie. Though so close to the opulent halls and courts of the seasons, this place held none of the beauty and all of the malice. An old fortress sort of place with old stone corridors and cold floors served as the barracks and home to the headless horsemen. Sconces of unnaturally colored firelight burst to life as he walked near them, giving off no heat but illuminating the passages.
After a time of wandering the hallways of locked rooms, he came across a courtyard, open to the strange swirling sky. Two figures paid him little mind, one, a petite brown skinned woman tending to the brushing and care of a gold and green striped tiger, who's emerald green flaming eyes tracked Zagan's every move. The other, was a rather lanky fellow with shaggy dirty blonde hair in a tattered brown duster, leaning against the wall and eating an apple...an air of laziness about him.
There was a reason why he never really made the effort to show up there. Plus, until this point he really hadn't much of a reason to come and ask for the dullahan services, except for some time long ago, when he had just only found himself in a status of position to do so. As his wanderings turned him out to a courtyard, his steps came to a slow stop, and his attention danced between the three there. The blonde man, the pretty little doll, and her pet. The latter of which was given a moment of careful consideration, before he started stepping forward, just a little.
"Hello. Is it possible to bother one of you for a moment of your time?" Polite and cordial, because really. He'd learned first hand that he didn't want to piss off a dullahan. His nose still sat a little crooked on his face from the last time.
The tiger rumbled a growl that reached into Zagan's bones, the only warning the businessman would get. The dark skinned woman had gems that dangled strategically on her forehead, making it look like a thin crown as well as a delicate chain that connected from a nose ring to one of the many rings that lined her ears. Bangles and rings decorated her hands and her almond eyes looked to Zagan briefly, slowly blinking at him but her attention returned to the big cat.
The cowboy in the duster looked over to Zagan and eyed him up and down, sizing him up before he snorted, "Got a set on ya t'come wanderin' on in here without an invitation there, buck-o." The man gave a wide toothy grin, "But...seein' as the Grey didn't rip your face off at the door, guess y'got some status. What ya want?"
The tiger's rumble, and the lack of interest shown by the woman tending to it was all the warning that he needed to leave her be. So he did, and nor did he move any further into the courtyard. Instead, his attention turned towards the Cowboy when he spoke, and couldn't help the faint smirk that pulled at his features. "You're not the first to say that." This was mused in response, while the american's following words had the amusement on his face growing. "What I want is simple. I would like to put in a request on Ronixi."
The wild west looking scruffy cowboy scratched said scruffiness along his jaw, "Y'would, would ya?" He looked him up and down again before giving a snort, "Would be simple....but seems we can't accommodate ya, Mister Status-man. Y'already invoked a cullin' on someone. Can't have you uppity sorts using us as assassins ALL the time." He smirked and pushed off the wall, tossing his apple core aside, licking his fingers of the juice, "So, swagger on outta here the way y'came."
He was going to respond to his question, when the american spoke again. Only this time his words have a touch of surprise bleeding across his features. "I already invoked one. Mmh. The years must be beginning to blend together." His feet shifted below him, before his attention settled on the other. "Tell me. Can I ask what the last name I put a request in on, was? Just to jog my memory. Then I'll be on my way and you can go back to enjoying your day."
The woman's almond eyes looked over to Zagan again, blinking slowly as she watched him and the cowboy thought a moment before answering, "...Couple years back, three or four, not long so your mind must be slippery than a new deck a cards." He snorted, "Fella named Lynch. Ol' Irish done the cullin' if memory serves...she'd know more but she's a little....indisposed." A wicked grin came to his face and a rough bark of a laugh. The Indian woman did not look amused.
"Lynch." Brennen. The man's first name popped into his head the moment he spoke the last. It was the name that Siobhan oh so many years ago had been working hard to earn Zagan taking care of the man for her. He never put the request in... but someone did. And honestly, was it a hard guess as to who had? Roni and Siobhan had been damned near inseperable for as long as he could remember... but the fault was nothing but his own. If he had never shoved Roni off on Siobhan, maybe none of them would be where they were now. Or... maybe the same thing would of happened, who knows.
"I remember now." The devious smirk pulling at his features speaks of the gears already running through his head. "And I'm well aware. I'm the one she attacked to get there. Tell her Zagan says Hi. And she's still welcome for me taking care of Brennen." There's a chuckle that rolled out of him, before he turned. "Thank you for your time, and sorry for the intrusion."
The cowboy Dullahan grinned, flapping a hand, "Glad t'be of service, your Courtly-ness." He gave a flourish and bowed, "Yeah...more of a headache for us but it'll be over soon, I wagers, got a lotta power in that Irish blood to transfer."
"Of course. I wish you all the speediest of times, and the least of a headache." That was offered simply, before he was disappearing around a corner, a bounce in his step that had not been there on his arrival. Roni had lost her ground again, and he's pretty damn well certain that there was little in the way that she would be able to get one up on him again. One sentence would ruin absolutely everything she had managed to accomplish. One sentence could end up with her life coming to an end. All he had to do was speak of the fact that he did not place the request on Brennen.
All was becoming right with his world again. He just hoped Roni was ready, because she was going to reap what she sowed with three months of slow torture.