Plotlogs
Shriveport Rapport Sr Deacon
Under the sway of a voodoo spell within the peculiar atmosphere of Rene Muton's arcane shop, the Black Hat, on Bell Drive in Shriveport, Louisiana, a group of individuals faced their inner demons and ancient spirits to bargain for an invaluable journal.
Asa, visibly out of his comfort zone and dabbling in a charm he doubted, offered a deeply personal and traumatic memory from his past—his assault. Thierry Daciar, fluent in the art of negotiation, traded away his knowledge of etiquette, a sly jab by a peasant spirit at his refined manners. Autumn Lynx, holding onto Asa in the midst of the supernatural fog, relinquished her cherished childhood dreams.
Tomas Inigo, concealing uncertainty beneath a layer of sarcasm and brute confidence, forfeited his sword and blood—though the latter was not taken. Instead of physical exchange, the spirit claimed something more intangible and foreboding, a piece of Tomas’s enigmatic and hellish origin.
As the shop's owner becomes submerged by the Loa spirit, Zakka, the negotiation reaches a harrowing climax. The Loa demands "a piece of the past" from each of the participants. The Loa's presence intensifies as it accepts their offers, and the atmosphere thickens with tension and mystic forces.
In the end, as the store dissolves into mist, they find themselves back on the street with the journal in hand, their memories fading much like the ephemeral Louisiana fog. Asa, simultaneously regretful and electrified by the outcome, predicts that he’ll be tangled in these otherworldly affairs more than he wishes. Tomas brusquely demands civil behavior from Asa, emphasizing they were there on business and reminding him of the practicality of their mission.
As the group disperses, there's an air of change around them. Thierry, reflective, muses on the significance of their encounter with spirits; Autumn contemplates her new reality after the loss of her dreams; Tomas accepts the resulting void left by his offered sword; and Asa wrestles with the gravity of his shared secret. All have paid a price for their bargain, but the book sought by Deacon is retrieved, the mission accomplished albeit at considerable personal costs. The story concludes with Asa determined to deliver the book directly to Deacon, maintaining a cryptic edge as the events of the night weigh heavily on everyone involved.
(Shriveport Rapport(SRDeacon):SRDeacon)
[Sat Nov 25 2023]
On Bell Drive [Shriveport, Louisiana]
A simple street like many of the others here in Shriveport. The asphalt of the road has long since faded from black to a dreary grey, and the sidewalk that lines either side has certainly seen better days; littered with junk and debris along with autumn leaves beginning to drop from the trees. Brandishing a bright sign that's easy to see and easier in the dark, a store can be seen from either side of the block, flashing in colors of neon greens and pinks in the shape of a skull wearing a top hat.
It is night, about 54F(12C) degrees, There is a full moon.
SRDeacon says "We're waiting about 5 for everyone to gather!"
People will arive one by one however they've arranged to come here. Deacon has offered his services to provide pathways to this part of town down here in Louisiana but he will only provide that path. In fact, those who may take him up on that offer will note that he won't even step FROM the path choosing to walk it back instead. As night settles in deep, those who've come to help this man or to help those who've come will find themselves a short distance from a small shop front, here on Bell Street.
stepping off the path with a touch of a stumble, Asa says with a cough. "I definitely have to get used to that." He gusts out a breath, then takes in his surroundings.
Spotting Thierry, he blinks and then gives a little bit of a whistle starting in thatt direction. He notices the older man, and says, "Well hey there, hands--" He sees the missing arm, and he quickly shifts to say, "Mister dacier. My apologies, heh, forgot we've met."
OOC: Combat here if ANY will be emulated for the sake of bypassing funky-ness with mechanical combat in plot and Mist rooms. If you're carrying gear, just specify it in your emote or etc. What you've specified will be what you have once the scene is in full swing.
"Autumn, mademoiselle, and Monsieur Asa." A nod to Asa and Autumn. There's a pause on the path, ready to step off. "I know our friend Monsieur Deacon needs some help, but I am afraid I am not sure of the nature of what is required." Then Thierry spies Tomas, giving him a nod and an introduction: "Thierry Dacier, sir."
Having arrived a little earlier than most, traveling by plane rather than by path, Tomas offers each of the gathering a little nod, Asa getting a little smirk in particular. "Yo," he says, very succinct. "Tomas Inigo. I'm one of Deacon's buddies. Pleasure." someone gets a little nod as well when he makes personal introductions, but otherwise he seems more intent on the job than on socialising very much.
Stepping out of the path after walking in it is Autumn, who turns to greet Thierry, Asa, and Tomas with a wave of her left hand. "Hello," she says before she looks around the street.
Having arrived a little earlier than most, traveling by plane rather than by path, Tomas offers each of the gathering a little nod, Asa getting a little smirk in particular. "Yo," he says, very succinct. "Tomas Inigo. I'm one of Deacon's buddies. Pleasure." Thierry gets a little nod as well when he makes personal introductions, but otherwise he seems more intent on the job than on socialising very much.
Asa looks over at Tomas, and he gives a little extra pose as he mouths in Tomas's direction, "Jack-ass."
Then he finally, slips on a serious disposition saying, "I talked with Deacon last night and I was toled we're trying to convince this guy to hand over... something." He glances amongst the group and he just asks, "I'm hoping we're going to try this the social way before we try, just shooting the shit out of him."
"I can be very convincing," Thierry says with some low confidence born of too many years.
The nature of the business tonight is largely domestic and mundane. Informed by and large with just this: The man who owns the shop down the road is named Rene Muton. He's a well-known supplier of arcane, santeria, and voodoo supplies for the entire area here close to New Orleans. Those with enough Occult Knowledge will know for certain that while he himself is a natural - his store is the real deal. The business of the evening is simple. To buy a book from the man, which he may be reluctant to sell given it's value as a reference book for a local brand of Voodoo. As Asa provides a truncated version of this goal, the others can see that among all the other places along the road - this shop is the only one that still seems open in this hour. Given its potential clientele this isn't strange.
"I'm not much of charmer, but I can help as well," Autumn slowly nods her head. "It's best to convince him first and save violence as last resort." Turning her head towards the store, the neon sign catches her eyes.
"Well," Thierry says, settling back with a shift where his missing arm hangs in his socket. "This will not be the first book I have acquired from an unwilling dealer." He looks around the company. "Do any here have an objection to me seizing it by force of mind?" he asks. "Young minds are weak."
"Not goin' to be that big of a deal, I think," Tomas grunts. "It's a family journal Deacon's after. Should have Herveaux written somewhere on it. I was figurin' we could probably sell him a little blood or somethin', if he's not gonna take money or whatever." He rolls his shoulders a little, adjusting the rapier strapped over a shoulder - which might stand out a little bit, but hey, it's night time. "Just keep an eye out for weird voodoo mind tricks he mighta set up, Dacier," he grunts. "But no, sounds like a good idea. I just don't want a fuckin' loa comin' to bite my ass or anything. Bayou magic's fucked up."
Asa considers that before he asks after a moment and with a bit of a glance towards Autumn. "Do you think we should do the flirtation method? A serious question. I kind of have a bit of a really good gift for that, it seems." He glances awkwardly around and then back to Tomas. "I mean we can sell them your blood. Explosive isn't it?"
Tomas says, with a little smirk, "You got no idea."
"A wise point," Thierry tells Tomas. "Even under duress, we should propitiate his guardian spirits." A low, charnel smile. "I know a thing or two about the dead when they are not sated."
While Thierry poses options to the crowd, the wind blows through though it can't truly be called cold by the standards of where these folk have come from. The sign continues to blink, it's bright lights the only real color in the dark of the night here. When the group is ready and have made their choices, the store awaits. [OOC: Move north when you all are ready!]
"So the store has to do with magic, huh. Interesting." Turning to look at Asa, Autumn ponders and says, "Perhaps, unless he's into men."
"You wound our friend," Thierry tells Autumn with low humor. "Do we have a plan?" He glances up at the full moon. "This is the hour of witchcraft," he says.
"What's his name? I have a contact in Boston who works with Desmond King. he does a lot of going from this place to that, an he may know the name since Mister King has ties to well... Haven." Asa seems on edge, even as he suggests to Autumn. "Worth trying to find out."
A quick check from his contacts with Desmond can easily dig up the name he seeks. Asa will come up with 'Rene Muton' Pronounced moo-tawn
"I'm good to play a little rough if things go south," Tomas shrugs, already plodding northwards along the road. "Rene Muton," he calls over his shoulder in Asa's direction. "Cajuns, man. They got names like that."
When the group steps into the room - the shop is cliche in some ways, and quite unexpected in others. More like a Chinese apocathary than the classic representation of such a store in the movies, this place is filled with boxes, glass jars, the exotic smell of strange herbs and spices ... among other things that are far mroe strange. And yes, even a few plucked chickens dried and hanging from noose in the doorway of the building as the group enters.
Asa pulls out his phone, subtly looking over information coming in as he keeps quiet, checking over Autumn, and then, Tomas, "Who's going to initiate if we want to avoid..." he gestures vaguely att Tomas's rapier.
Entering the store with the group while almost getting slapped in the face by one of the hanging chickens, Autumn takes a look at the items before she turns to face the man behind the register. "Hello there," she says to him. "We are looking for book."
"Monsieur Muton!" Thierry calls out. Cajun French is far from the aristocratic mother tongue that the older man speaks, but he speaks it fluently. "Bon nuit, monsieur." A look at his companions, and then one that widens to take in all the occult creations.
OOC: I will try to allow everyone a pose in before moving forward! Do not feel rushed beyond your own individual time tables.
As possibly the least diplomatic and least educated member of their little band, Tomas seems content to simply loom around, leaning in to directly sniff at a hanged chicken carcass. There's more curiosity in his eyes than distaste, but even a casual bystander would be able to tell he's wary. Ignorance of the workings of the occult combined with awareness of its existence doth conjure a broth of intrigue and concern, and the big man stays as light on his feet as his heavy boots will allow for. "Bon nuit," he echoes, nodding gratefully at Thierry for the little reminder. He knew that one greeting, even if he didn't speak Cajun.
Asa leans over and murmurs to Tomas quietly as individuals make their greetings quietly, "I've got nothing on him, at all, Though Mister King has heard of him, so..." he frowns instead waiting to see how the man acts.
Well, the French accent and fluency is certainly a good start for the group, here. That much is certain as soon as Thierry opens his mouth and the man behind the counter at the far end of the shop seems to straighten up and brighten up his expression. ""
Hold.
Well, the French accent and fluency is certainly a good start for the group, here. That much is certain as soon as Thierry opens his mouth and the man behind the counter at the far end of the shop seems to straighten up and brighten up his expression. "Ahh, welcome welcome to the Black Hat, bon nuit. What can I find for you this evening, monsuier?" The man behind the counter is black, with short-kept hair that's well taken care of. He's tall, but not staggeringly so, and appears to be somewhere in his mid-40's. The shop itself lends an air of ... solidity. The door closing behind them all makes for a sense of SEAL almost. Any trained in the ways of magic can literally feel the protections that lie upon this place. Those that aren't feel still the sense of something watching them whereever they go and whatever they do. Tomas' words ring loudly in the minds of all those here tonight, as Autumn and the former also add greetings to the mix. Are there Loa here tonight?
"We seek a book, monsieur," Thierry says, slipping back into English for the benefit of his companions. "My friend has the details." He nods to Asa, who he hopes has the details, indeed. "It has some value to us, of course: and so tonight, under the full moon, we are here to make a bargain." As he says it, he steps forward, and there is a slow cadence to his words.
"You have interesting store," Autumn comments towards Muton with a look of curiosity. "I've never seen one like this before." She then nods her head. "Yes. Book we are looking for is important."
Taking stock of Tomas's words earlier, Asa is caught off guard by his introduction. Yet, he smiles as he steps forward, and nods his head to the man. "Hello there. we're actually here to buy a journal. There's a family name on it. And it's of some importance." He nods his head, then he adds, "And if I'm honest. I'd like to hear about your work as well. This place is very intriguing." He makes the words more innocent sounding, conversational, even charming as he comes his hair from his eyes.
"Journal by one Harietta Herveaux," Tomas grunts from his little place by the chickens. "Gotta reunite it with its family, but I hear it's a pretty valuable thing, so we're willin' to negotiate, yeah?" He lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug as he glances between Thierry and Asa, the actual negotiators, then suggests, "Dacier here - the Frenchie - works in this kinda thing, if I heard correctly, so he's not a bad guy to swing a deal with, Mister Muton. I'm just here as an acquaintance of the man who needs said book."
"Indeed," Thierry tells Rene. "I am a dealer in such works."
"Aha! You have heard of this?" Rene says, and the man himself does seem surprised. He seems even more surprised to discover that they know of the name captured within the tome itself. "Ahh! Men of answers, and of knowledge! Excellent" he says and the mention of the full moon seems to appease him. The man closes his eyes ... and then his voice comes but from somewhewre else. From within him, from without him and though he opens his eyes and speaks with the same voice there is something more to him, now. Something more confident. "You came to bargain, so bargain with us now" comes the voice from Rene. His grin is ... predatory - flashing teeth like that of a shark saleman catching a fresh fish. The room's atmospherte becomes even more heavy. The smell of those herbs comes heady into the brain, making it harder to concentrate. All but for Tomas, who for some reason seems more immune to this effect than the others.
seeing this, Asa stumbles right on back and he scowls over at Autumn, mouthing, "Never trying this again..." only to feel a little foggy and then he's almost lost in the scent that's assaulting him, trying to focus on Rene.
Her head swaying from the aroma, Autumn slowly leans onto Asa. "So this is what voodoo magic feels like?" She murmurs with her gaze shifting around.
"Jesus," Tomas grunts as he reoils a little, the deity's name dripping from the faithless Catholic in the face of this witchcraft. "We still speakin' with Mister Muton, here?" His New England accent could hardly hope to pass for Cajun or French, which might make obvious his foreignness to the area. Seeing the others starting to sway a little, he eyes his lucky chicken sacrifice a little dubiously, half-expecting the thing to come alive and start dealing with him directly. "You know what we want. Short of sellin' our souls, here, what is it that you're askin' of us?"
Thierry telsl someone, "I have in my --" He trails off, tilting his head. "I have in my stores a shrunken head. It belonged to a Nubian shaman, a descendant of the Medjays, and with an incantation he will speak ancient magics on your behalf," he says. A look at Tomas, then back at Rene. "I will trade it and its seven hundred years of wisdom for the journal," he says. "I have learned much from Dadsoul. You can learn from him now instead."
Asa is surprised when he feels weight against him, his words coming slow, though it's with a tinge of tension, and an underlying anger, "I... think so..." he tries to say to Autumn attempting to hold them up, but it's more like, He's unable to quite get the words in order. He's confused, and there's a look towards Thierry and then worriedly to Tomas.
Thierry telsl Rene, "I have in my --" He trails off, tilting his head. "I have in my stores a shrunken head. It belonged to a Nubian shaman, a descendant of the Medjays, and with an incantation he will speak ancient magics on your behalf," he says. A look at Tomas, then back at Rene. "I will trade it and its seven hundred years of wisdom for the journal," he says. "I have learned much from Dadsoul. You can learn from him now instead."
Request: Occult Knowledge Showstat.
"Zakka at your service, mon petit" comes the man's voice toward Tomas at the question, no attempt at play there. "Ahh, but the bargain is half of the fun! You come searching for man, from a man's past. Who are you to walk in this man's past, hrm?" The tone is conversational, but the Name is important. Thierry and Autumn will recognize it generically. A simple peasant spirit, one that cherishes hard work, and bountiful harvest in food and in plenty. A woman chaser, who loves to bargain and quibble but ultimately resides on what little can be called of the 'beneovlent' side of things when it comes to Loa. Brother to Ghede, to invoke one is often to invoke the other ... for Asa and Autumn, as this new presence settles in fully, the feeling of that stupifying haze vanishes. Not just fades, but vanishes completely. "We set the terms of the bargain. No tricks of the trade, and no bids you can't pay immediately. Are we agreed?" The smile is vicious, comepltely out of place on the man's face. "I'll even give you the benefit of ignoring your offer first, lest you choose to start smaller."
OOC: Anyone with OK 2 can feel free to use Wiki etc. at their disposal for information (not TOO specific) on Zakka or Azacca.
"We are agreed," Thierry says with some easy confidence. "Lord of Grains," he says, directing his words towards Rene. "My lord is King of the Winds, of the Empty Quarter: he bears us on this mission and would treat fairly with his kinsmen, who is Great King of Green Places."
Asa glances around and he looks over at Thierry before he sweeps his gaze to Tomas. He's out of his depth here, and it is certainly clear, and not only is he tense, but there's anger on his face, though notdirected at many of the ones present. Still he considers the idea of a bargain.
"My name is Tomas Inigo," Tomas replies, putting the full Castellano twist on the pronunciation of his name. "I was conceived in Hell and carry the blood of demon whose identity is hidden from me." He glances in Thierry's direction, trying to take cues from the grandeur of his introductions but not quite recognising any of the titles for what they mean. "Deacon Herveaux is under my care, and I'm here on his behalf."
"My name is Tomas Inigo," Tomas replies, putting the full Castellano twist on the pronunciation of his name. "I was conceived in Hell, and carry the blood of a Demon whose identity is hidden from me." He glances in Thierry's direction, trying to take cues from the grandeur of his introductions but not quite recognising any of the titles for what they mean. "Deacon Herveaux is under my care, and I'm here on his behalf." (small fix)
Asa pauses, glances at Rene, then he takes in a breath, and then he schools his features, calms his nerves before he says honestly, "I wasn't given to understand exactly what we were about here, but I am prepared to make a bargain, but for two things. It may..." he t rails off and he falls silent before he clears his throat, and he goes on, glancing at Thierry as if making sure he's not just stepping on his toes.
"I am Autumn Lynx," Autumn introduces herself, regaining her balance and stands straight beside Asa. "Brother and I were also born in Hell and carry demon blood. Deacon is ally of mine, and our ally as well."
there's a halting, a slow breath in and out, and while Asa's staring ahead, he's all of a sudden seeming to turn his attention inward as if something is going on with him, but he is stepping back, and then looking aside to Thierry to take over.
Thierry tells Asa in a low voice, "You are doing well." It's meant to be reassuring.
"Ahh. One educated and others ... less." To Thierry's surprise perhaps though, it's to Tomas that his attention turns to for now. Not disrepespectfully so, but one common man to another seems to be the word of the hour for now. "Your friend knows us, almost kin! This is good tidings, hellborn and soul-constrained. So many allies ... very well. A piece of his past. A piece of yours, This was the basis of your intent before. I will make you a bargain. an easy one, non? A piece of your past, from each of you."
The words ring heavily. A simple price ... or is it?
Thierry pauses, nodding slowly. "My history is long," he intones. "A piece of it is yours."
"I'll offer you my sword," Tomas tries, "And enough blood to coat it." There's a pause, and then the self-styled Prince of Haven informs the loa-apparent, "I do not offer the skills I built up to use it. It should benefit Munot, if you don't see fit to harvest your grains with it." That's a stab in the dark, there - he's just riffing off Thierry's introduction, here.
"And you, autumn child?" The voice turns to look at Autumn now, almost ignoring Asa as the others communicate with this spirit.
Something breaks Asa out of whatever internal conflict he's having giving Thierry a small nod. "I'll offer you the most important part of my past. though it's the one that I determine. Will that do?"
"...I will offer a part of my past as well," Autumn tells the spirit with a slow nod of her head. "Whatever piece of past you find of interest, you will have it. Be it memory of brotherhood or cherished memory of mine with parents." She then raises her right hand out towards Rene.
Thierry turns, then: he regards Rene, his eyes some distant pools.
As everyone has spoken, there's a sense of something STRONG in the air, now. "It's a bargain!" The words are loud, intoned with meaning and reverence. The light in the room dims almost into shadow. "The price will be paid, and the bargain concluded." To Thierry, the man possessed points to him and intones "Etiquette comes with meaning, so you will lose it. All that you know of this will begin to fade." Then the man's eyes shift to Tomas, "Your bargain will be the sweetest of all, though you yet not know it." To this, the sword merely lifts from the man's shoulder to float itself over to a place on the man's shelves. No blood taken, and none required though it was offered in the bargain. "Now for you my Autumn Child. Your childhood dreams I claim for my own." Autumn may find this an easy task, but there seems no less that sense of victgory, of winning the bargain as he continues on down the line.
For YOU ... Shadow Man, twice told and twice sold. A piece of your past at your behest - what most drags you down, hrm? These belong to me now." There's more there, it sounds off twice-spoken but there's no more said from the Loa as he makes his rounds."
"I have forgotten more than most have ever known," the Frenchman says enigmatically. Thierry glances at Asa and Autumn, as if to tell them to be strong.
With a great gust of wind, the door to the shop is blown open as a cruel, cold biting wind that's unseasonal and unregional to this little street in Shriveport comes rushing through. With it comes a mist or a fog , not unlike mists more familiar to these people swirls and seems to coalesce into thick fog that begins to fill the room. It's cold in the lungs but not harmful, but with it comes that sense of being seperated from their companions even though they might be a scant foot or two away. The mist swirls ... swirls .... swirls ....
"It's a pretty good one," Asa says bitterly, though it's with a little bit of an u nderhanded sale, even as he seems to have gained a title, and that more than anything else worries him. "The most important part of my life was on my fourth cruise." He looks at Thierry, and then Autumn, only to finally glare at Tomas, "I was assaulted, in a variety of ways, and was left for dead. You can have it." He seems to be as much a trixter if anything, getting about as much of the bargain out of it as he can. Though he quickly averts his gaze from Rene, and more importantly Tomas, who he tenses near.
If Tomas seems to exude a sense of easy violence, it only thickens in response to Asa's defensive glare, intermingling with those swirling mists until he cannot quite make out any of his companions. Keen, keen ears might pick out softly-uttered complaints about Fuckin' Bayou Magic, and the man hunkers in, trying to keep near that one chicken he'd gravitated towards from the moment he step foot inside the Black Hat. Maybe it would help him keep his sense of direction.
Catching Thierry's glance, Autumn nods once more before she turns to watch the swirling mist. With her left hand, she almost moves it in an attempt to gently hold Asa's arm. "Hold on tight," she murmurs towards him while she herself attempts to keep her balance.
When the Mist finally clears - Those who've come tonight will find themselves back out into the street .. and the shop gone altogether. It's not just not there, the building isnt' there. Another building in it's place - a corner store advertising cheap booze and tax-free cigarettes. The group remains together after all, but the book they've come for holds in Asa's hand. For a moment there's a plume a mist a miasma of green-hued smoke that seems to envelop the recovering junkie before dissipating. The air is gone from the cold bite back to a warm Louisiana night. The sound of geeze overhead come softly, migrating their way north.
There's a look at the book, even as memories start to dissipate. "You got it," Thierry tells Asa. "Even if --" He pauses. "Already it's a dream."
OOC: Thank you guys so much for coming on this small adventure tonight! it is connected to a personal storyline that revolves around Deacon and his attempts to kind of devle into the family history there. I'll throw everyone involved tonight an invite into the storyline but I will not be offended if you opt out! While I can't enforce entirely the consequences of the bargain this evening, the intent is thus: For Autumn, childhood dreams can be driving and inspiring for people and losing them may cause her to have to find newe inspirations and passions in time of crisis. For Tomas - The sword. We'll discuss more later but I hope to turn this into a plot of it's own. Asa - You know what's going down. When you tier up if you tier up - demonic pact is something I hope you choose.
OOC: For Thierry - Etiqutte can be re-learned but I wanted him to be taken a little low - the peasant spirit's way of jabbing a little at his manner. In no way does this reflect poorly on your RP tonight but rather I thought a fitting thing for him to maybe move forward and grow!
OOC: Lastly - RP until you're ready to get out. Let me know when you guys are 'finished' and I will conclude things and wrap up successes for folks! If you're spending XP or awards, Let me know!
OOC: P.S. While everyone was great tonight, Asa in specific really went for it with internal emotes, thoughts and feelings that often help a Storyrunner drive ideas and plot hooks for lasting impact on a character! They're getting my award tonight for absolutely bringing it 1000/ and I wanted to publicly among you guys mention that as a positive call-out. We get a lot of negative call-outs in our community here and I believe in being the change i want to see!
Asa looks down at the journal in his hands and he stares at Thierry before he states to him, and Autumn, "I... have made a mistake.... I think." He seems to be trembling, though there's also mild excitement as he says, "I think I'm going to be back here more than I care to be."
OOc: Asa blushes. Thank you all for taking me along this was so much fun, especially since I literally am big stupid character.
"Stonehouser," Tomas grunts, shifting over towards the skinnier man. "You gotta be less of a fuckin' dick. We were workin', tonight. No need for the dramatics - yeah, I broke your fuckin' nose, but you did, you know, /stab me/. You gonna get that book to Deacon, now?"
Asa turns then at Tomas's words. "You can fuck right on off. You're the fucking dick, and you know it. And Yes. I'm going to put it in his hands directly. No worries about that," he says cryptically.
Thierry shakes his head, his eyes a little cloudy. "We should. The spirits here are not ours," he tells Autumn and Asa, including Tomas for good measure. "We enslaved the Medjays before there was ever a middle passage. There's a myth told about black Egypt," he says. "But in truth, Pharoahs came up the Nile as conquerors."
"This is my first time experiencing this kind of magic," Autumn speaks, adjusting her cloak to keep herself warm. "Must be lots of practice." A glance at Tomas, she then turns her head and nods in agreement with Thierry. "I see. Alright."
Asa, visibly out of his comfort zone and dabbling in a charm he doubted, offered a deeply personal and traumatic memory from his past—his assault. Thierry Daciar, fluent in the art of negotiation, traded away his knowledge of etiquette, a sly jab by a peasant spirit at his refined manners. Autumn Lynx, holding onto Asa in the midst of the supernatural fog, relinquished her cherished childhood dreams.
Tomas Inigo, concealing uncertainty beneath a layer of sarcasm and brute confidence, forfeited his sword and blood—though the latter was not taken. Instead of physical exchange, the spirit claimed something more intangible and foreboding, a piece of Tomas’s enigmatic and hellish origin.
As the shop's owner becomes submerged by the Loa spirit, Zakka, the negotiation reaches a harrowing climax. The Loa demands "a piece of the past" from each of the participants. The Loa's presence intensifies as it accepts their offers, and the atmosphere thickens with tension and mystic forces.
In the end, as the store dissolves into mist, they find themselves back on the street with the journal in hand, their memories fading much like the ephemeral Louisiana fog. Asa, simultaneously regretful and electrified by the outcome, predicts that he’ll be tangled in these otherworldly affairs more than he wishes. Tomas brusquely demands civil behavior from Asa, emphasizing they were there on business and reminding him of the practicality of their mission.
As the group disperses, there's an air of change around them. Thierry, reflective, muses on the significance of their encounter with spirits; Autumn contemplates her new reality after the loss of her dreams; Tomas accepts the resulting void left by his offered sword; and Asa wrestles with the gravity of his shared secret. All have paid a price for their bargain, but the book sought by Deacon is retrieved, the mission accomplished albeit at considerable personal costs. The story concludes with Asa determined to deliver the book directly to Deacon, maintaining a cryptic edge as the events of the night weigh heavily on everyone involved.
(Shriveport Rapport(SRDeacon):SRDeacon)
[Sat Nov 25 2023]
On Bell Drive [Shriveport, Louisiana]
A simple street like many of the others here in Shriveport. The asphalt of the road has long since faded from black to a dreary grey, and the sidewalk that lines either side has certainly seen better days; littered with junk and debris along with autumn leaves beginning to drop from the trees. Brandishing a bright sign that's easy to see and easier in the dark, a store can be seen from either side of the block, flashing in colors of neon greens and pinks in the shape of a skull wearing a top hat.
It is night, about 54F(12C) degrees, There is a full moon.
SRDeacon says "We're waiting about 5 for everyone to gather!"
People will arive one by one however they've arranged to come here. Deacon has offered his services to provide pathways to this part of town down here in Louisiana but he will only provide that path. In fact, those who may take him up on that offer will note that he won't even step FROM the path choosing to walk it back instead. As night settles in deep, those who've come to help this man or to help those who've come will find themselves a short distance from a small shop front, here on Bell Street.
stepping off the path with a touch of a stumble, Asa says with a cough. "I definitely have to get used to that." He gusts out a breath, then takes in his surroundings.
Spotting Thierry, he blinks and then gives a little bit of a whistle starting in thatt direction. He notices the older man, and says, "Well hey there, hands--" He sees the missing arm, and he quickly shifts to say, "Mister dacier. My apologies, heh, forgot we've met."
OOC: Combat here if ANY will be emulated for the sake of bypassing funky-ness with mechanical combat in plot and Mist rooms. If you're carrying gear, just specify it in your emote or etc. What you've specified will be what you have once the scene is in full swing.
"Autumn, mademoiselle, and Monsieur Asa." A nod to Asa and Autumn. There's a pause on the path, ready to step off. "I know our friend Monsieur Deacon needs some help, but I am afraid I am not sure of the nature of what is required." Then Thierry spies Tomas, giving him a nod and an introduction: "Thierry Dacier, sir."
Having arrived a little earlier than most, traveling by plane rather than by path, Tomas offers each of the gathering a little nod, Asa getting a little smirk in particular. "Yo," he says, very succinct. "Tomas Inigo. I'm one of Deacon's buddies. Pleasure." someone gets a little nod as well when he makes personal introductions, but otherwise he seems more intent on the job than on socialising very much.
Stepping out of the path after walking in it is Autumn, who turns to greet Thierry, Asa, and Tomas with a wave of her left hand. "Hello," she says before she looks around the street.
Having arrived a little earlier than most, traveling by plane rather than by path, Tomas offers each of the gathering a little nod, Asa getting a little smirk in particular. "Yo," he says, very succinct. "Tomas Inigo. I'm one of Deacon's buddies. Pleasure." Thierry gets a little nod as well when he makes personal introductions, but otherwise he seems more intent on the job than on socialising very much.
Asa looks over at Tomas, and he gives a little extra pose as he mouths in Tomas's direction, "Jack-ass."
Then he finally, slips on a serious disposition saying, "I talked with Deacon last night and I was toled we're trying to convince this guy to hand over... something." He glances amongst the group and he just asks, "I'm hoping we're going to try this the social way before we try, just shooting the shit out of him."
"I can be very convincing," Thierry says with some low confidence born of too many years.
The nature of the business tonight is largely domestic and mundane. Informed by and large with just this: The man who owns the shop down the road is named Rene Muton. He's a well-known supplier of arcane, santeria, and voodoo supplies for the entire area here close to New Orleans. Those with enough Occult Knowledge will know for certain that while he himself is a natural - his store is the real deal. The business of the evening is simple. To buy a book from the man, which he may be reluctant to sell given it's value as a reference book for a local brand of Voodoo. As Asa provides a truncated version of this goal, the others can see that among all the other places along the road - this shop is the only one that still seems open in this hour. Given its potential clientele this isn't strange.
"I'm not much of charmer, but I can help as well," Autumn slowly nods her head. "It's best to convince him first and save violence as last resort." Turning her head towards the store, the neon sign catches her eyes.
"Well," Thierry says, settling back with a shift where his missing arm hangs in his socket. "This will not be the first book I have acquired from an unwilling dealer." He looks around the company. "Do any here have an objection to me seizing it by force of mind?" he asks. "Young minds are weak."
"Not goin' to be that big of a deal, I think," Tomas grunts. "It's a family journal Deacon's after. Should have Herveaux written somewhere on it. I was figurin' we could probably sell him a little blood or somethin', if he's not gonna take money or whatever." He rolls his shoulders a little, adjusting the rapier strapped over a shoulder - which might stand out a little bit, but hey, it's night time. "Just keep an eye out for weird voodoo mind tricks he mighta set up, Dacier," he grunts. "But no, sounds like a good idea. I just don't want a fuckin' loa comin' to bite my ass or anything. Bayou magic's fucked up."
Asa considers that before he asks after a moment and with a bit of a glance towards Autumn. "Do you think we should do the flirtation method? A serious question. I kind of have a bit of a really good gift for that, it seems." He glances awkwardly around and then back to Tomas. "I mean we can sell them your blood. Explosive isn't it?"
Tomas says, with a little smirk, "You got no idea."
"A wise point," Thierry tells Tomas. "Even under duress, we should propitiate his guardian spirits." A low, charnel smile. "I know a thing or two about the dead when they are not sated."
While Thierry poses options to the crowd, the wind blows through though it can't truly be called cold by the standards of where these folk have come from. The sign continues to blink, it's bright lights the only real color in the dark of the night here. When the group is ready and have made their choices, the store awaits. [OOC: Move north when you all are ready!]
"So the store has to do with magic, huh. Interesting." Turning to look at Asa, Autumn ponders and says, "Perhaps, unless he's into men."
"You wound our friend," Thierry tells Autumn with low humor. "Do we have a plan?" He glances up at the full moon. "This is the hour of witchcraft," he says.
"What's his name? I have a contact in Boston who works with Desmond King. he does a lot of going from this place to that, an he may know the name since Mister King has ties to well... Haven." Asa seems on edge, even as he suggests to Autumn. "Worth trying to find out."
A quick check from his contacts with Desmond can easily dig up the name he seeks. Asa will come up with 'Rene Muton' Pronounced moo-tawn
"I'm good to play a little rough if things go south," Tomas shrugs, already plodding northwards along the road. "Rene Muton," he calls over his shoulder in Asa's direction. "Cajuns, man. They got names like that."
When the group steps into the room - the shop is cliche in some ways, and quite unexpected in others. More like a Chinese apocathary than the classic representation of such a store in the movies, this place is filled with boxes, glass jars, the exotic smell of strange herbs and spices ... among other things that are far mroe strange. And yes, even a few plucked chickens dried and hanging from noose in the doorway of the building as the group enters.
Asa pulls out his phone, subtly looking over information coming in as he keeps quiet, checking over Autumn, and then, Tomas, "Who's going to initiate if we want to avoid..." he gestures vaguely att Tomas's rapier.
Entering the store with the group while almost getting slapped in the face by one of the hanging chickens, Autumn takes a look at the items before she turns to face the man behind the register. "Hello there," she says to him. "We are looking for book."
"Monsieur Muton!" Thierry calls out. Cajun French is far from the aristocratic mother tongue that the older man speaks, but he speaks it fluently. "Bon nuit, monsieur." A look at his companions, and then one that widens to take in all the occult creations.
OOC: I will try to allow everyone a pose in before moving forward! Do not feel rushed beyond your own individual time tables.
As possibly the least diplomatic and least educated member of their little band, Tomas seems content to simply loom around, leaning in to directly sniff at a hanged chicken carcass. There's more curiosity in his eyes than distaste, but even a casual bystander would be able to tell he's wary. Ignorance of the workings of the occult combined with awareness of its existence doth conjure a broth of intrigue and concern, and the big man stays as light on his feet as his heavy boots will allow for. "Bon nuit," he echoes, nodding gratefully at Thierry for the little reminder. He knew that one greeting, even if he didn't speak Cajun.
Asa leans over and murmurs to Tomas quietly as individuals make their greetings quietly, "I've got nothing on him, at all, Though Mister King has heard of him, so..." he frowns instead waiting to see how the man acts.
Well, the French accent and fluency is certainly a good start for the group, here. That much is certain as soon as Thierry opens his mouth and the man behind the counter at the far end of the shop seems to straighten up and brighten up his expression. ""
Hold.
Well, the French accent and fluency is certainly a good start for the group, here. That much is certain as soon as Thierry opens his mouth and the man behind the counter at the far end of the shop seems to straighten up and brighten up his expression. "Ahh, welcome welcome to the Black Hat, bon nuit. What can I find for you this evening, monsuier?" The man behind the counter is black, with short-kept hair that's well taken care of. He's tall, but not staggeringly so, and appears to be somewhere in his mid-40's. The shop itself lends an air of ... solidity. The door closing behind them all makes for a sense of SEAL almost. Any trained in the ways of magic can literally feel the protections that lie upon this place. Those that aren't feel still the sense of something watching them whereever they go and whatever they do. Tomas' words ring loudly in the minds of all those here tonight, as Autumn and the former also add greetings to the mix. Are there Loa here tonight?
"We seek a book, monsieur," Thierry says, slipping back into English for the benefit of his companions. "My friend has the details." He nods to Asa, who he hopes has the details, indeed. "It has some value to us, of course: and so tonight, under the full moon, we are here to make a bargain." As he says it, he steps forward, and there is a slow cadence to his words.
"You have interesting store," Autumn comments towards Muton with a look of curiosity. "I've never seen one like this before." She then nods her head. "Yes. Book we are looking for is important."
Taking stock of Tomas's words earlier, Asa is caught off guard by his introduction. Yet, he smiles as he steps forward, and nods his head to the man. "Hello there. we're actually here to buy a journal. There's a family name on it. And it's of some importance." He nods his head, then he adds, "And if I'm honest. I'd like to hear about your work as well. This place is very intriguing." He makes the words more innocent sounding, conversational, even charming as he comes his hair from his eyes.
"Journal by one Harietta Herveaux," Tomas grunts from his little place by the chickens. "Gotta reunite it with its family, but I hear it's a pretty valuable thing, so we're willin' to negotiate, yeah?" He lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug as he glances between Thierry and Asa, the actual negotiators, then suggests, "Dacier here - the Frenchie - works in this kinda thing, if I heard correctly, so he's not a bad guy to swing a deal with, Mister Muton. I'm just here as an acquaintance of the man who needs said book."
"Indeed," Thierry tells Rene. "I am a dealer in such works."
"Aha! You have heard of this?" Rene says, and the man himself does seem surprised. He seems even more surprised to discover that they know of the name captured within the tome itself. "Ahh! Men of answers, and of knowledge! Excellent" he says and the mention of the full moon seems to appease him. The man closes his eyes ... and then his voice comes but from somewhewre else. From within him, from without him and though he opens his eyes and speaks with the same voice there is something more to him, now. Something more confident. "You came to bargain, so bargain with us now" comes the voice from Rene. His grin is ... predatory - flashing teeth like that of a shark saleman catching a fresh fish. The room's atmospherte becomes even more heavy. The smell of those herbs comes heady into the brain, making it harder to concentrate. All but for Tomas, who for some reason seems more immune to this effect than the others.
seeing this, Asa stumbles right on back and he scowls over at Autumn, mouthing, "Never trying this again..." only to feel a little foggy and then he's almost lost in the scent that's assaulting him, trying to focus on Rene.
Her head swaying from the aroma, Autumn slowly leans onto Asa. "So this is what voodoo magic feels like?" She murmurs with her gaze shifting around.
"Jesus," Tomas grunts as he reoils a little, the deity's name dripping from the faithless Catholic in the face of this witchcraft. "We still speakin' with Mister Muton, here?" His New England accent could hardly hope to pass for Cajun or French, which might make obvious his foreignness to the area. Seeing the others starting to sway a little, he eyes his lucky chicken sacrifice a little dubiously, half-expecting the thing to come alive and start dealing with him directly. "You know what we want. Short of sellin' our souls, here, what is it that you're askin' of us?"
Thierry telsl someone, "I have in my --" He trails off, tilting his head. "I have in my stores a shrunken head. It belonged to a Nubian shaman, a descendant of the Medjays, and with an incantation he will speak ancient magics on your behalf," he says. A look at Tomas, then back at Rene. "I will trade it and its seven hundred years of wisdom for the journal," he says. "I have learned much from Dadsoul. You can learn from him now instead."
Asa is surprised when he feels weight against him, his words coming slow, though it's with a tinge of tension, and an underlying anger, "I... think so..." he tries to say to Autumn attempting to hold them up, but it's more like, He's unable to quite get the words in order. He's confused, and there's a look towards Thierry and then worriedly to Tomas.
Thierry telsl Rene, "I have in my --" He trails off, tilting his head. "I have in my stores a shrunken head. It belonged to a Nubian shaman, a descendant of the Medjays, and with an incantation he will speak ancient magics on your behalf," he says. A look at Tomas, then back at Rene. "I will trade it and its seven hundred years of wisdom for the journal," he says. "I have learned much from Dadsoul. You can learn from him now instead."
Request: Occult Knowledge Showstat.
"Zakka at your service, mon petit" comes the man's voice toward Tomas at the question, no attempt at play there. "Ahh, but the bargain is half of the fun! You come searching for man, from a man's past. Who are you to walk in this man's past, hrm?" The tone is conversational, but the Name is important. Thierry and Autumn will recognize it generically. A simple peasant spirit, one that cherishes hard work, and bountiful harvest in food and in plenty. A woman chaser, who loves to bargain and quibble but ultimately resides on what little can be called of the 'beneovlent' side of things when it comes to Loa. Brother to Ghede, to invoke one is often to invoke the other ... for Asa and Autumn, as this new presence settles in fully, the feeling of that stupifying haze vanishes. Not just fades, but vanishes completely. "We set the terms of the bargain. No tricks of the trade, and no bids you can't pay immediately. Are we agreed?" The smile is vicious, comepltely out of place on the man's face. "I'll even give you the benefit of ignoring your offer first, lest you choose to start smaller."
OOC: Anyone with OK 2 can feel free to use Wiki etc. at their disposal for information (not TOO specific) on Zakka or Azacca.
"We are agreed," Thierry says with some easy confidence. "Lord of Grains," he says, directing his words towards Rene. "My lord is King of the Winds, of the Empty Quarter: he bears us on this mission and would treat fairly with his kinsmen, who is Great King of Green Places."
Asa glances around and he looks over at Thierry before he sweeps his gaze to Tomas. He's out of his depth here, and it is certainly clear, and not only is he tense, but there's anger on his face, though notdirected at many of the ones present. Still he considers the idea of a bargain.
"My name is Tomas Inigo," Tomas replies, putting the full Castellano twist on the pronunciation of his name. "I was conceived in Hell and carry the blood of demon whose identity is hidden from me." He glances in Thierry's direction, trying to take cues from the grandeur of his introductions but not quite recognising any of the titles for what they mean. "Deacon Herveaux is under my care, and I'm here on his behalf."
"My name is Tomas Inigo," Tomas replies, putting the full Castellano twist on the pronunciation of his name. "I was conceived in Hell, and carry the blood of a Demon whose identity is hidden from me." He glances in Thierry's direction, trying to take cues from the grandeur of his introductions but not quite recognising any of the titles for what they mean. "Deacon Herveaux is under my care, and I'm here on his behalf." (small fix)
Asa pauses, glances at Rene, then he takes in a breath, and then he schools his features, calms his nerves before he says honestly, "I wasn't given to understand exactly what we were about here, but I am prepared to make a bargain, but for two things. It may..." he t rails off and he falls silent before he clears his throat, and he goes on, glancing at Thierry as if making sure he's not just stepping on his toes.
"I am Autumn Lynx," Autumn introduces herself, regaining her balance and stands straight beside Asa. "Brother and I were also born in Hell and carry demon blood. Deacon is ally of mine, and our ally as well."
there's a halting, a slow breath in and out, and while Asa's staring ahead, he's all of a sudden seeming to turn his attention inward as if something is going on with him, but he is stepping back, and then looking aside to Thierry to take over.
Thierry tells Asa in a low voice, "You are doing well." It's meant to be reassuring.
"Ahh. One educated and others ... less." To Thierry's surprise perhaps though, it's to Tomas that his attention turns to for now. Not disrepespectfully so, but one common man to another seems to be the word of the hour for now. "Your friend knows us, almost kin! This is good tidings, hellborn and soul-constrained. So many allies ... very well. A piece of his past. A piece of yours, This was the basis of your intent before. I will make you a bargain. an easy one, non? A piece of your past, from each of you."
The words ring heavily. A simple price ... or is it?
Thierry pauses, nodding slowly. "My history is long," he intones. "A piece of it is yours."
"I'll offer you my sword," Tomas tries, "And enough blood to coat it." There's a pause, and then the self-styled Prince of Haven informs the loa-apparent, "I do not offer the skills I built up to use it. It should benefit Munot, if you don't see fit to harvest your grains with it." That's a stab in the dark, there - he's just riffing off Thierry's introduction, here.
"And you, autumn child?" The voice turns to look at Autumn now, almost ignoring Asa as the others communicate with this spirit.
Something breaks Asa out of whatever internal conflict he's having giving Thierry a small nod. "I'll offer you the most important part of my past. though it's the one that I determine. Will that do?"
"...I will offer a part of my past as well," Autumn tells the spirit with a slow nod of her head. "Whatever piece of past you find of interest, you will have it. Be it memory of brotherhood or cherished memory of mine with parents." She then raises her right hand out towards Rene.
Thierry turns, then: he regards Rene, his eyes some distant pools.
As everyone has spoken, there's a sense of something STRONG in the air, now. "It's a bargain!" The words are loud, intoned with meaning and reverence. The light in the room dims almost into shadow. "The price will be paid, and the bargain concluded." To Thierry, the man possessed points to him and intones "Etiquette comes with meaning, so you will lose it. All that you know of this will begin to fade." Then the man's eyes shift to Tomas, "Your bargain will be the sweetest of all, though you yet not know it." To this, the sword merely lifts from the man's shoulder to float itself over to a place on the man's shelves. No blood taken, and none required though it was offered in the bargain. "Now for you my Autumn Child. Your childhood dreams I claim for my own." Autumn may find this an easy task, but there seems no less that sense of victgory, of winning the bargain as he continues on down the line.
For YOU ... Shadow Man, twice told and twice sold. A piece of your past at your behest - what most drags you down, hrm? These belong to me now." There's more there, it sounds off twice-spoken but there's no more said from the Loa as he makes his rounds."
"I have forgotten more than most have ever known," the Frenchman says enigmatically. Thierry glances at Asa and Autumn, as if to tell them to be strong.
With a great gust of wind, the door to the shop is blown open as a cruel, cold biting wind that's unseasonal and unregional to this little street in Shriveport comes rushing through. With it comes a mist or a fog , not unlike mists more familiar to these people swirls and seems to coalesce into thick fog that begins to fill the room. It's cold in the lungs but not harmful, but with it comes that sense of being seperated from their companions even though they might be a scant foot or two away. The mist swirls ... swirls .... swirls ....
"It's a pretty good one," Asa says bitterly, though it's with a little bit of an u nderhanded sale, even as he seems to have gained a title, and that more than anything else worries him. "The most important part of my life was on my fourth cruise." He looks at Thierry, and then Autumn, only to finally glare at Tomas, "I was assaulted, in a variety of ways, and was left for dead. You can have it." He seems to be as much a trixter if anything, getting about as much of the bargain out of it as he can. Though he quickly averts his gaze from Rene, and more importantly Tomas, who he tenses near.
If Tomas seems to exude a sense of easy violence, it only thickens in response to Asa's defensive glare, intermingling with those swirling mists until he cannot quite make out any of his companions. Keen, keen ears might pick out softly-uttered complaints about Fuckin' Bayou Magic, and the man hunkers in, trying to keep near that one chicken he'd gravitated towards from the moment he step foot inside the Black Hat. Maybe it would help him keep his sense of direction.
Catching Thierry's glance, Autumn nods once more before she turns to watch the swirling mist. With her left hand, she almost moves it in an attempt to gently hold Asa's arm. "Hold on tight," she murmurs towards him while she herself attempts to keep her balance.
When the Mist finally clears - Those who've come tonight will find themselves back out into the street .. and the shop gone altogether. It's not just not there, the building isnt' there. Another building in it's place - a corner store advertising cheap booze and tax-free cigarettes. The group remains together after all, but the book they've come for holds in Asa's hand. For a moment there's a plume a mist a miasma of green-hued smoke that seems to envelop the recovering junkie before dissipating. The air is gone from the cold bite back to a warm Louisiana night. The sound of geeze overhead come softly, migrating their way north.
There's a look at the book, even as memories start to dissipate. "You got it," Thierry tells Asa. "Even if --" He pauses. "Already it's a dream."
OOC: Thank you guys so much for coming on this small adventure tonight! it is connected to a personal storyline that revolves around Deacon and his attempts to kind of devle into the family history there. I'll throw everyone involved tonight an invite into the storyline but I will not be offended if you opt out! While I can't enforce entirely the consequences of the bargain this evening, the intent is thus: For Autumn, childhood dreams can be driving and inspiring for people and losing them may cause her to have to find newe inspirations and passions in time of crisis. For Tomas - The sword. We'll discuss more later but I hope to turn this into a plot of it's own. Asa - You know what's going down. When you tier up if you tier up - demonic pact is something I hope you choose.
OOC: For Thierry - Etiqutte can be re-learned but I wanted him to be taken a little low - the peasant spirit's way of jabbing a little at his manner. In no way does this reflect poorly on your RP tonight but rather I thought a fitting thing for him to maybe move forward and grow!
OOC: Lastly - RP until you're ready to get out. Let me know when you guys are 'finished' and I will conclude things and wrap up successes for folks! If you're spending XP or awards, Let me know!
OOC: P.S. While everyone was great tonight, Asa in specific really went for it with internal emotes, thoughts and feelings that often help a Storyrunner drive ideas and plot hooks for lasting impact on a character! They're getting my award tonight for absolutely bringing it 1000/ and I wanted to publicly among you guys mention that as a positive call-out. We get a lot of negative call-outs in our community here and I believe in being the change i want to see!
Asa looks down at the journal in his hands and he stares at Thierry before he states to him, and Autumn, "I... have made a mistake.... I think." He seems to be trembling, though there's also mild excitement as he says, "I think I'm going to be back here more than I care to be."
OOc: Asa blushes. Thank you all for taking me along this was so much fun, especially since I literally am big stupid character.
"Stonehouser," Tomas grunts, shifting over towards the skinnier man. "You gotta be less of a fuckin' dick. We were workin', tonight. No need for the dramatics - yeah, I broke your fuckin' nose, but you did, you know, /stab me/. You gonna get that book to Deacon, now?"
Asa turns then at Tomas's words. "You can fuck right on off. You're the fucking dick, and you know it. And Yes. I'm going to put it in his hands directly. No worries about that," he says cryptically.
Thierry shakes his head, his eyes a little cloudy. "We should. The spirits here are not ours," he tells Autumn and Asa, including Tomas for good measure. "We enslaved the Medjays before there was ever a middle passage. There's a myth told about black Egypt," he says. "But in truth, Pharoahs came up the Nile as conquerors."
"This is my first time experiencing this kind of magic," Autumn speaks, adjusting her cloak to keep herself warm. "Must be lots of practice." A glance at Tomas, she then turns her head and nods in agreement with Thierry. "I see. Alright."