NoriWasHere
Thayr
Asuras
AtomicEmperor
Kronshi
OwO
Snowdrops
Irradiant
Sky Blue
Ivar
Halloween Festival, Near the Haunted House
Mentions: @Punished GN, @AtomicEmperor
And just like that, Britney left. Along with Sabrina. Layla wasn't sure how she felt. Relieved?
No.
Abandoned?
How sensitive was she?!
Well, currently, exceptionally. It wasn't Britney's fault, some of the coven members actually really depended on her.
”Don't get soft on me, sweetheart.”
Layla stiffened, and turned her face away as Britney and Sabrina left.
I'm gonna stick around with Layla, make sure that we spread the firepower around a little bit, y'know?"
That piqued Layla's curiosity. She remembered… she remembered what she knew of Mr. Devola. She had met him near the beginning of the fight against the snake, when she was still so little. Never feeling comfortable calling him by his first name, she had instead opted to call him by his last.
Her gaze shifted to look up at him. Was he really concerned about ensuring everyone was safe? Or was this… something else?
What had Linqian whispered to him? Why had they acted so secretive for a moment?
And… Did Mr. Devola consider her weak? …He’d be right. For now, if she could help it.
Layla pursed her lips, and tried to shrug the thoughts away as Mr. Devola spoke.
"So how have you been, Hon? Not sure if you remember me at all, but my name's Greyson. I didn't see you at the meeting the other night, you not want to show up? You didn't miss much."
“I was there… briefly. I guess you would have missed it, I had a new buddy with me.”
She sighed. “Only Anya seemed to agree with me. She's got her head on straight, I'll have to talk with her again. But I was… uhm… called out before the meeting concluded.”
She paused, wondering how much she could tell Mr. Devola. Did he know anything? She… she hadn't had a chance to talk with Miss Vorpal again since their first fateful meeting. No, that wouldn't take place until sometime after the festival.
Maybe she wouldn't talk about her new friends. Their plans. But she could maybe share some of the burden, some of the pain in her heart, yes?
Maybe… At least one other Sycamore member would get how she felt. Because currently, it felt like the world was against her, and she was alone.
Betrayed and alone.
Brutally betrayed and alone.
Layla clenched the cloth of her bee costume before she held up a wrapped hand. The bandage was removed, unwrapping layer by layer until Layla showed Mr. Devola what was underneath.
Fresh, deep bite marks marred her skin, cuts and tears of sharp teeth blemishing porcelain skin.
She held it for a moment, before quickly wrapping the bandage again, hiding the marks. She didn't want anyone else to see.
Rage bubbled in her, tears pricking her eyes.
“They took… Everything from me.”
Arms wrapped around herself, still feeling cold despite the wringing out Sabrina performed.
“Now… Now everything is back to normal. What my life has been for the past twelve years.”
A sick laugh escaped her throat. “Maybe I should thank them. Who was I to think I'd ever be free?”
The laughter died out, and Layla hung her head, staring at the ground.
“We should… uh… move to the Haunted House.”
Before she remembered.
“Oh, uhm…” Now she felt a bit awkward. “Were… there any more leads given during the meeting? Anything I missed?”
What if she was missing something crucial?
Isabella Blackthorn &
A collaboration with @NoriWasHere
The Night Before…
Isabella Blackthorn stood on the cold night, the tiny ember from her cigarette lighting up her face. She grimaced before blowing out a smoke ring. Tonight was a big deal for Mother Cards.
Why?
Well, the new paintings they ‘acquired’, of course. Apparently they were an entire set, and everyone, especially thieves, knew your haul was more valuable when you had every candy in the tin.
She held a small briefcase in her other hand, containing everything she would to make this deal go as smoothly as possible. They were artists, they would dig this, she had no doubt.
Isabella flicked her stubbed cigarette down, stomped it out, and glanced at the parking lot. A car idled in the darkness, her ‘bail out card’ in case things went south.
Doubtful, though. No one ever complained when there was money to be made.
A scowl settling on her features, Isabella pulled on the brim of her hat and stepped into the building.
As she stepped through the door a small, hidden button captured Isabella as she entered the building. The halls were empty, but a few stray heads leaned out random doorways watching the arrival of a potential client. Right in front of the door there was a large painting of a road that stretched to the horizon. On either side of the road there were soldiers in armor, some with guns, and they numbered in the hundreds. On the road a small black dot began to grow larger. It was hard to make out at first but soon it was clear enough that a singular person was walking down the road in the painting, and as it grew larger the painting began to shimmer. The face of Alex soon appeared through the painting, and they stepped out of the painting itself.
“Welcome,” Alex spoke as they raised their hand towards Isabella, “to the 317.” It was well past their normal closing time however Alex was roped into this deal. Good money could be made, money that could be put back into the community and money that would help expand their operations here. They were skeptical however, did this break their rules on staying neutral? Would this bring unwarranted attention back on themselves? All Alex truly knew was that Faith had agreed to meet, and that it might take a lot of convincing to make a deal.
Isabella watched with intrigued as the painting shifted, and an entire person came out. Abstractions really were a wonder to behold, she thought.
Taking a step forward, she shifted the briefcase to the other hand and extended her free hand forward in a handshake. “Miss Blackthorn, at your service. Thank you for seeing me.”
She glanced around the lobby before her gaze returned to them. “Will the boss be joining us tonight, or will it just be us?”
“The boss is expecting you,” Alex responded as they waved for Isabella to follow. They walked back to the painting and they pressed their hand on the frame. The painting shifted slightly in front of their eyes, a second path splintered off from the main one, leading to a staircase down towards the bottom left of the frame. “Alex,” they gave their name with a weak smile, and offered their hand for leverage, “you’re not going far.”
Alex knew the meeting was on site, and they knew that keeping the layout of their operations a secret was needed, but it was literally one flight of stairs. Sometimes they did not understand the needlessly dramatic flair. Faith said it was to demonstrate the ability to transport people, assets, and more to and from the venue discreetly, and to Alex that made sense. But who would want to walk through a painting on the first meeting?
Isabella watched carefully as the painting shifted, then stared for a longer moment at Alex's outstretched hand. She couldn't tell right off the bat how this abstraction worked, but it was clear there was a lot of power in being able to move freely in and out of paintings.
Her head tilted curiously. Where did the stairs lead? What if this was a grand ploy to kidnap and trap a House of Cards member?
C'est la vie, mademoiselle. Isabella thought with a shrug before she took the hand offered.
“Good, good. I'm looking forward to this, Alex.”
Alex took a step into the painting, and turned back to face Isabella. “Do not stray from the path, do not interact with anyone but me, do not make any threatening gestures towards anyone else or me, and do not linger.” With that said, Alex turned around and entered the painting in full, pulling Isabella as they did. Alex was the first through, and as always the inside of this realm was a perplexing place. The soldiers that the painting had shown on the outside were very real now, and they flanked Alex on both sides of the road. In the distance, they could see several square and rectangular outlines. These were dormant paintings that they’d paired to this one in the past, and the outlines were barely visible now. The path cut sharply to the left, leading to a staircase that descended downward to darkness. At the end of the darkness was another rectangular portal, much like the one they just stepped through.
As they walked past the soldiers, a light went off in Isabella's mind. This was how the 317 managed a part of their security. How convenient to have full control over the ‘doors’ of their abode, especially when it came to less than legal activities…
The thought almost made Isabella smirk. Almost.
She stayed in step with Alex as they descended the staircase to the next portal.
As they neared the portal Alex looked back and saw each soldier staring directly at Isabella. All were equally annoyed at the outsiders presence, but content with the fact that they would only intrude on their realm for a short while longer.
“Hurry up now,” Alex stopped before the portal, “the boss is waiting for you on the other side.”
There was a scowl on Isabella's face as she felt eyes on her. The painting really was alive, after all.
She glanced at Alex as they stood in front of the portal, “Best not make them wait.”
She adjusted the collar of her dress, and stepped through without another moment's hesitation.
Isabella would be greeted by the sight of six paintings, all on the corners of a hexagram rug, with the painting she stepped out of being a short distance away. In front of these paintings an ornate chair was positioned to allow those who step out of the paintings a comfortable view of the show. In the middle of the rug an empty display case was positioned.
“So you must be my appointment,” Sypha spoke up as she left her office. “Sypha, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Miss Blackthorn, the pleasure is mutual.” Isabella said as she stepped through the painting, regarding the room and the regal person approaching them.
She gently held out a hand for a handshake before nodding to the office. “We have much to discuss today, in a deal I feel will be beneficial for both parties. Shall I follow you?”
Sypha was once again dressed well. She had on a vintage purple dress, gloves, and her overcoat was still on.
“Yes, please. Step into my office,” Sypha said as she led the way inside. She sat down and crossed her arms. “So. So you’re looking for a place to make a sale. Tell me more.”
Isabella smoothed out her dress as she took a seat across from Sypha. In one swift movement, she set her slim briefcase on her lap, rolled over the numbers, and clicked it open. A photocopy was place on the table, containing a snapshot of oil paintings framed in carved wood. Another photo was placed, showing a singular painting with an English countryside as the subject.
Isabella gestured to the photographs. “The late Arnold Turillo crafted paintings beloved to the auction house and the art scene in St. Portwell - an esteemed figure such as yourself would have heard of him.”
She gave the collection photograph a tap. “Now, his singular paintings are valued fairly well. $50,000 here, $90,000 there. But-”
She held up a finger, then drew an imaginary circle around the collection. “When you have the entire set, the estimated value skyrockets. We've calculated it to be worth about $1 million.”
Isabella paused, then carefully leaned forward in her seat.
“What we need is a fence to sell the collection as a whole. In the bustling art scene of St. Portwell, I know this won't be an issue for you.”
Now was the kicker. Isabella set her face straight and serious as she spoke.
“We're willing to split profits 70/30. Or…”
It was set unfairly, giving them only a sliver on purpose. To encourage them to choose the second option.
A gleam in her eye.
“We give you the entire profit. We only ask for one thing in return. One of your… in-house artifacts.”
Sypha slid backwards in her seat, losing their pristine posture for just a moment. Their eyes slid from the photocopies, to Isabella, before back to the photocopies. If these were authentic, then the estimate was mostly correct. If they were authentic. They’d need to verify that first and foremost. The question, as always, was what the turnaround time would be, and what kind of exposure would this cast on their lowly art collective? These paintings were well known enough that it’d be the actual government coming for them, and they had resources and tools to track down those paintings. A million dollars would be a decent amount of money for the collective though so Sypha was still interested.
And they knew the first offer was a joke, and they knew it was meant to be as such. That begged the question, which artifact could they be after? They needed more information before they could continue. They interlocked her fingers as they leaned back forward.
“Which one?”
Isabella's answer was quick, without hesitation, betraying a slight excitement that was devoid from her face.
“A bound monster and its object. My boss tells me it's your organization's… lesser-known speciality.”
A single smirk crossed their face. Finally. Sypha leaned forward as they reached into their bag and grabbed a small notebook. “Well,” Sypha paused as they began to write, “Let’s say your boss is right. The paintings are your foot in the door,” they paused as they leaned back, “a cover charge for the party if you will. If you want to dance I’m happy to talk more about the cost of the event.”
Isabella nodded. She came prepared to empty the Cards’ coffers on this deal. Mother Cards specifically said that this particular deal was of the utmost importance for the future of the Family, and their plans to enact Void's last will and testament. Isabella had full power to direct and seal this deal, from the mouth of the Mother herself.
“Sypha, you have my full attention.”
“To start, you’ll need to provide this” Sypha paused as they slid the notepad across their desk. It was a single sentence and it would be one that Sypha knew would be much harder for them to acquire. It was ‘one evil person’ circled several times. “you’ll need to find the base. The worse the better and you will need to prove that they’re a bad person.”. Sypha paused as she pulled the notebook back and wrote down a large number. “Second, we’ll need an additional five hundred thousand dollars as a deposit. We’ll split the painting seventy thirty, seventy to us thirty to you, when the collection sells. A return on the deposit if you will.”
Isabella picked up the notepad briefly, eyes narrowing slightly. An ‘evil person’ would take some time to procure, but she could think of a few places to start.
She nodded at Sypha's next statement. “A deposit can be done at a moment's notice. Cash, wire transfer?”
A slight pause, before Isabella held Sypha's gaze carefully. “Sixty forty, and you got yourself a deal.”
One of the first rules of business was to never accept the first deal. A little haggle, and everyone would be satisfied, she was sure.
“When do you need the base by?”
“I’m firm on the percentage,” Sypha paused as she sat forward, “And we can’t move forward with the spell until we have the base. The sooner, the better. I will reiterate, we need someone evil. I expect you’ll bring proof to verify this.
Isabella paused for a moment, before she nodded. Within the briefcase, she pulled out a checkbook. In elegant, practiced cursive, she wrote out a check for $500,000, signing the back and leaving the recipient blank. With a crisp tearing, she held the single check out to Sypha.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Sypha. I have the paintings on stand-by, we can transfer them over to you tonight.”
“Likewise, we’ll be in contact I’m sure. Alex!”
Alex was waiting on the other side of the door, ready and waiting for their guest to get bored and leave. Sypha shouting was the alert and Alex opened the door and motioned for Isabella to follow. They led them back through the painting, back out the the other side, and watched as they exited the building.
