Friday, Aug 22, late afternoon.
Jaycy shuffled with a little weave toward a decrepit, nondescript building in Dockside, covering her yawning-wide mouth with her hand as she neared the structure that appeared near collapse. Two letters, short in stature, gave the only indication as to the building?s identity ? M and O. Those two letters were staked haphazardly to the topmost beam of the door?s frame. She curved fingers around the knob and twisted, pushing the portal in before following with her small form through the resulting space.
The inner space was a marvel of contradictions from the woebegone outside ? walls gleamed a cheerful yet pastel yellow. Deep rich cherry planks resonated a warmth from below travellers? feet. Shelves traversed the lengths of the walls laden with thick expensive papers, lovingly oiled leather-bound journals, and clear bottles of rich, lush colored inks. Tables dotted through the larger-than-it-looked-from-the-outside hosted baskets of all manner of feathers and quills ? from eagle and peacock to the most modern ballpoint tip. A door at the opposite end led to the mysterious unknown, protected by the countertop barrier that served double duty as silent gatekeeper and cashier?s station.
The redhead pushed through the seemingly-deserted space in direct route to the door that led beyond. She easily curved around the end of the counter and strolled through to the next room, settling her right hand briefly on the hilt of the sword sheathed at her hip. This room was as drab as the previous was opulent; a dull, gray concrete plastered the walls without pause for a window. A single wooden table and chair graced the centerpoint of the room and a lone filing-type cabinet held its wall upright.
A man stood near the cabinet, a lanky, graying gent with thick-rimmed glasses perched upon his nose. His body half-twisted at the intruder?s encroachment until he ascertained her identity. ?Jaycynda,? he greeted fondly (but still with that old-world formality), pulling his hands from the cabinet drawer to spin and face her, clasping those very hands in front of him. He gave her a little half bow over the resulting ball of finger-wiggling flesh.
?Arlen,? she scowled lightly at him, expressing her displeasure further with a one-fingered gesture from the lifted right hand. She grinned a moment later to soften the curse and strode the few steps toward the beckoning chair. ?Whachya got for me, hrm?? she asked as she pulled out the chair and dropped gracelessly into it, grunting lightly with the impact. Green-gold eyes shifted from the bare tabletop to the man near the cabinet; a man she had known for the last decade or more. He had become her surrogate father, her protective-but-chaste guardian, her mentor. She had become, likewise, the pride in his eyes. Of all the men in her life, their relationship had never been marred by sexual tension and they loved each other all the more in that. Jaycy liked to believe that Psly knew all her secrets, but more she knew that Psly had access to all of her secrets. He just never chose to delve into them.
Arlen, however, knew each and every secret. He?d known, too, of the circumstances surrounding the appearance of this version of the redhead; he?d been tasked with confirming a seamless transition from old to new. Further, he had sworn never to tell of his knowledge or even involvement. To this day, he had kept that promise.
He loosened his hands, facing back toward the cabinet and rifling through the folders and documents cleanly organized within. ?There are only a few, my dear, which is probably well considering your upcoming ? challenge.? The frown went unseen as he directed it toward the papers but he was unable to keep the concern from creeping into his voice. ?At least two Daril might complete on his own, in fact. He is growing restless.?
?Mmm,? she yawned again, bobbing her head slightly up and down. ?Mmm. Lemme see ?em. Any for Psly an? I?? Elbows dropped to the table as she leaned forward, flicking her gaze from his back to the blank surface. A foot tapped the ground underneath, seemingly impatient for the production of all she wanted to see. In reality, the little jolts helped assure her remaining consciously awake while she sat there. Another night had come and gone with another nightmare and that meant, again, no sleep for the redhead. No matter how exhausted Morgan and Lesinda had made her.
He released a soft sigh, crossing the close distance and settling a trio of folders gently on the tabletop. ?The last one is something that you might be able to accomplish quickly. Children are being kidnapped in Bryony.? The attempt to break the news of the job?s location gently failed miserably; her head snapped up and she snatched at that folder first, the two potential assignments for her retained mage left ignored and unopened.
She sheared the top half of the folder from its mate in her haste to uncover the documents within, exhaustion forgotten in the sudden focus on the material. ?Two? girls ? no boys ?? she muttered, fluttering through the papers. ?Aye,? she declared swiftly and firmly without taking her eyes from the words in front of her. ?We?re taking this one.?
Arlen shook his head from his post slightly behind and to her left. He knew that was going to be her reaction but he also knew she would have been hurt if he hadn?t honestly shown her what she asked for. The facts of the case, too, were such that time might be truly of the essence and, well, they would likely be finished before she needed to return for the challenge. The problem, though, were the nightmares that seemed to be gaining in strength and horror each evening she attempted sleep.
?My dear,? he softly began, reaching out to rest a hand lightly on her left shoulder.
Jaycy shuffled with a little weave toward a decrepit, nondescript building in Dockside, covering her yawning-wide mouth with her hand as she neared the structure that appeared near collapse. Two letters, short in stature, gave the only indication as to the building?s identity ? M and O. Those two letters were staked haphazardly to the topmost beam of the door?s frame. She curved fingers around the knob and twisted, pushing the portal in before following with her small form through the resulting space.
The inner space was a marvel of contradictions from the woebegone outside ? walls gleamed a cheerful yet pastel yellow. Deep rich cherry planks resonated a warmth from below travellers? feet. Shelves traversed the lengths of the walls laden with thick expensive papers, lovingly oiled leather-bound journals, and clear bottles of rich, lush colored inks. Tables dotted through the larger-than-it-looked-from-the-outside hosted baskets of all manner of feathers and quills ? from eagle and peacock to the most modern ballpoint tip. A door at the opposite end led to the mysterious unknown, protected by the countertop barrier that served double duty as silent gatekeeper and cashier?s station.
The redhead pushed through the seemingly-deserted space in direct route to the door that led beyond. She easily curved around the end of the counter and strolled through to the next room, settling her right hand briefly on the hilt of the sword sheathed at her hip. This room was as drab as the previous was opulent; a dull, gray concrete plastered the walls without pause for a window. A single wooden table and chair graced the centerpoint of the room and a lone filing-type cabinet held its wall upright.
A man stood near the cabinet, a lanky, graying gent with thick-rimmed glasses perched upon his nose. His body half-twisted at the intruder?s encroachment until he ascertained her identity. ?Jaycynda,? he greeted fondly (but still with that old-world formality), pulling his hands from the cabinet drawer to spin and face her, clasping those very hands in front of him. He gave her a little half bow over the resulting ball of finger-wiggling flesh.
?Arlen,? she scowled lightly at him, expressing her displeasure further with a one-fingered gesture from the lifted right hand. She grinned a moment later to soften the curse and strode the few steps toward the beckoning chair. ?Whachya got for me, hrm?? she asked as she pulled out the chair and dropped gracelessly into it, grunting lightly with the impact. Green-gold eyes shifted from the bare tabletop to the man near the cabinet; a man she had known for the last decade or more. He had become her surrogate father, her protective-but-chaste guardian, her mentor. She had become, likewise, the pride in his eyes. Of all the men in her life, their relationship had never been marred by sexual tension and they loved each other all the more in that. Jaycy liked to believe that Psly knew all her secrets, but more she knew that Psly had access to all of her secrets. He just never chose to delve into them.
Arlen, however, knew each and every secret. He?d known, too, of the circumstances surrounding the appearance of this version of the redhead; he?d been tasked with confirming a seamless transition from old to new. Further, he had sworn never to tell of his knowledge or even involvement. To this day, he had kept that promise.
He loosened his hands, facing back toward the cabinet and rifling through the folders and documents cleanly organized within. ?There are only a few, my dear, which is probably well considering your upcoming ? challenge.? The frown went unseen as he directed it toward the papers but he was unable to keep the concern from creeping into his voice. ?At least two Daril might complete on his own, in fact. He is growing restless.?
?Mmm,? she yawned again, bobbing her head slightly up and down. ?Mmm. Lemme see ?em. Any for Psly an? I?? Elbows dropped to the table as she leaned forward, flicking her gaze from his back to the blank surface. A foot tapped the ground underneath, seemingly impatient for the production of all she wanted to see. In reality, the little jolts helped assure her remaining consciously awake while she sat there. Another night had come and gone with another nightmare and that meant, again, no sleep for the redhead. No matter how exhausted Morgan and Lesinda had made her.
He released a soft sigh, crossing the close distance and settling a trio of folders gently on the tabletop. ?The last one is something that you might be able to accomplish quickly. Children are being kidnapped in Bryony.? The attempt to break the news of the job?s location gently failed miserably; her head snapped up and she snatched at that folder first, the two potential assignments for her retained mage left ignored and unopened.
She sheared the top half of the folder from its mate in her haste to uncover the documents within, exhaustion forgotten in the sudden focus on the material. ?Two? girls ? no boys ?? she muttered, fluttering through the papers. ?Aye,? she declared swiftly and firmly without taking her eyes from the words in front of her. ?We?re taking this one.?
Arlen shook his head from his post slightly behind and to her left. He knew that was going to be her reaction but he also knew she would have been hurt if he hadn?t honestly shown her what she asked for. The facts of the case, too, were such that time might be truly of the essence and, well, they would likely be finished before she needed to return for the challenge. The problem, though, were the nightmares that seemed to be gaining in strength and horror each evening she attempted sleep.
?My dear,? he softly began, reaching out to rest a hand lightly on her left shoulder.