Fallenreaper
Izurich
Ti
Collab @Bright_Ops & @Noxious
How odd it was that the affluent cage of her upbringing had left certain skills much more conducive to this life than her last. Obtaining information for example. Information is a commodity, and the retrieval of such depends entirely on the individual in possession. There were those that could be persuaded with a bit of money or a well placed “Attaboy”. Some, well, some just needed a strong hand to show them the way. It was looking like a draw as to which pleased the jockey of those swaying hips better. She was weighing this behind heavily tinted glasses as she strolled through the hive.
Her day had already been a busy one and it seemed apt that her last tip, still red and crusted beneath her claws, had led her to a soup kitchen; nothing like a little bribery and homicide to get that appetite pumping. It wasn’t long before she stood facing the building, eyes darting to take in the structure and its clientele as her hand rested idly on the holstered bolter at her hip. Again, the idea of forming a plan nibbled at her consciousness and then was kicked away by a rumble from her neglected stomach. She didn’t know enough about this Draco to form a working plan, even if it had been her strong suit.
No bother, blanched lips curled into an honest smile born of intrigue as she walked through the door. She took only a moment to glance about the place before walking up to a man hovering over some soup. Would she like some? Why yes, yes she would. He handed her the bowl, ready to move his attention to the next hungry hands, before she leaned in to occupy his consideration. He hadn’t really looked at her until this moment and was mildly surprised at the girl that stood before him. Her sunglasses had yet to be removed and she looked a little anemic, but the button nose, high cheekbones and posture of genteel breeding shone through, chased by honey soaked words that jingled with the same enthusiasm that radiated from the odd specimen.
“I need to speak with Draco. When he has a moment you can send him my way.” She extended a finger in the direction of an empty seat, and then crossed with the soup to fill it. She sat and placed a napkin in her lap as her mother’s voice buzzed in the back of her mind about manners; an ever present reminder of how good life was now that her mother no longer existed beyond the walls of her own memories. Lips, forever tainted with that innocent grin, wrapped around the spoon. It was her turn to be pleasantly surprised because the soup was really quite delicious.
Chop Chop Chop Chop
Draco felt the stress of the day slide off his shoulders as the knife in his hand sliced through carrot after carrot, chopping each one that was placed on the chopping block in front of him into slices so that they could be thrown into a stew pot; It was a simple fact that the Noble was almost always busy with fresh faces that needed something to eat and thus food needed to be prepared and made almost around the clock. The only time that food wasn't being produced was when the stocks ran out and they had to wait for more supplies to arrive.
Chop Chop Chop Chop
Sadly Draco didn't get to cook as much as he would have liked to these days; His other duties and side projects required his attention and time after all. When he did get the chance to do so through, he was more then happy to do it.
"Sir, forgive me for bothering you but it seems that there is someone in the kitchen who wants to meet with you."
Chop Chop Ch-
The knife stopped mid cut as Draco turned his attention towards the acolyte that had interrupted his cooking. "Who is it?"
The acolyte sighed a little as he answered "We don't know. She isn't local at any rate despite the fact that she would fit in here. Acolyte Mormca spoke to her while he was handing out stew; He claims that she had the baring and speech of a noble woman, but looked and smelt like someone who had been slumming it in the lower hive for months without bathing."
This caught Draco's attention somewhat. The woman being described had all the signs of someone who had dedicated themselves to the service of Papa Nurgle, suggesting that she was a cultist. This was something of an bad sign; Whenever any of the cults had sent 'ambassadors' to talk with him, they tended to send a follower of the Princess to talk to him due to their more... persuasive nature. Nurgle worshipers tended to make good assassins through...
Draco had been opening his mouth with full intention of ordering that the woman be taken out the back and shot quietly when a familiar whisper entered his mind, easing his nerves and calming him down somewhat. He rather liked this voice, since it had always been friendly to him ever since he had first started to hear the voices, acting as a balm on his very soul whenever he started to get stressed out and near his breaking point.
Hear this one out. This daughter of decay may be of some use to you, I promise.
Closing his mouth as he considered the wise words given to him, he placed the knife down on the chopping block as he finally opened his mouth once more. "Have her escorted to my office. I do believe I wish to have a word with her."
...................................................
From out of the back, two men dressed in what appeared to be body armor and armed with lasguns that would have made any ganger of the lower hive drool with desire stepped out into the dinning hall, following one of the staff past numberous patrons of the soup kitchen until they arrived at the woman that had requested a meeting with their boss. While the guards themselves didn't seem actively hostile towards the woman, their body language suggested that they were only following orders and that they would follow the order to protect someone with the same zeal and willingness as they would follow the order to drag that person out the back and shoot them. "The master will see you now."
Provided that the woman came willingly, she would be escorted out the back and through a number of rooms before finally arriving at an office. Draco himself was seated at his desk, looking at the woman as she entered with a laspistol on his desk while two more of his guards stood either side of him, lasguns in hand but at ease for the moment. There was an empty seat opposite Draco and in clear view of the various armed people in the room.
Draco tapped the desk next to the laspistol out of habit before he stopped in order to speak "Take a seat Ms. I will admit that I am only speaking to you because a friend of your Grandfather's decided to vouch for you. So what do you wish to speak with me about?"
The bowl of soup was empty, save for the small amount unattainable within the dictates of social graces and with nothing else to occupy the girl had taken to fantasizing elaborate stories about her fellow patrons. She was just deciding the sexual kinks of a rather husky male when the armored guards consumed the entirety of the room’s attention. She pressed her palms to the table and stood to meet their approach, measured and as unthreatening in her own movements as she could muster. It wasn’t a difficult task seeing as her subtle frame was ever accompanied by that bemused grin.
There was no shame in her blatant once over of the meat bags, lips faltering only marginally at their use of the word “Master”. She’d always found the term to be misplaced; to have a man as a master seemed a slight to those we truly serve. This philosophy took hold in a sort of pity on her expression that, if noticed by the men, was sure to be misunderstood. She was a guest here though and so said nothing on the subject, instead a simple “Thank you,” was provided to the puppets and then a gesture for them to lead the way.
Her rhythmic pace took time with their own while her attention fluttered about the hallways and doors they passed through. Undoubtedly one in possession of viable sanity would question this lengthy course and what kind of finality lay at its resolution; but the girl’s sanity had long been pushed to the wayside in favor of more captivating endeavors. This lack of worry was not born of naivety though, she was well aware and coherent in regards to her situation. No reward without any risk they say.
Her eyes found the infamous Draco as she was escorted into the room and she slipped into the offered chair across from him. They seemed rather pleased with their weaponry and she made sure to take note, if only for their benefit. In turn, she was sure that the man across was well aware of her own weaponry, reiteration came when she removed the glasses and pushed them into the mess of hair on top of her head. She now met his gaze with one pale green eye and one that seemed in the midst of being devoured by inky blackness from the pupil out. One leg crossed the other and claw like digits were placed in clear view on her lap; no need to excite his flesh bags. They received a final once over before Draco was gifted the entirety of her attention. She allowed herself to feel honored, people rarely deemed her worthy of security measures until she had an object knuckle deep into their limited existence.
The mention of Nurgle pleased her, but she suppressed the deviation of conversation that acknowledgment would bring. “Whatever the reason for your attention, be sure that I am grateful. I understand a man such as yourself has little free time, therefore I will try to be brief. An associate of mine is rather keen on locating a man by the name of Traxel Yidara and I was told you may be able to assist me.” She had decided the man did not appear the charitable type, which was slightly humorous considering he ran a soup kitchen, the thought infected her smile but was not allowed to reach vocal cords. “Of course, I am aware that nothing is free. Such a petty man as Traxel should be of no consequence to you, and I will happily tell the Sisters and my associate of your aid. Good favor and favors are assured.”
Draco did not like this woman much in the same way that a cat disliked having a strange, new cat on the block trying to take a nap in its warm, sunny place; A lifetime of being raised in a noble house in the upper hive and the activities that he had been up to as of late had ensured that the only expression that the woman would get to see was thoughtful amusement. The fact that he knew bugger all about who Traxel Yidara was did not change the fact that he was planning to twist her arm to get the best possible deal out of her for his assistance.
"And why might your associate be interested in the whereabouts of Mr Yidara? Due to my unfamiliarity with both your associate and the so called Sisters you speak of, you can understand why I find your offer of a favor... questionable. You're going to have to give me a much more detailed picture of the situation before I deem it worth investing in it."
The dirty blonde hair belonging to Rosalux bobbed along with a nod. She was far from the conceit that would cause her to balk at his lack of acknowledgment; in fact any disappointment she had was directed towards herself for not providing enough information in her introduction. Pale lips pursed as she weighed the relevance and secrecy in relation to the noble man before her, but there was only a timid beat before she began expounding on her previous request.
“As you know I have a plethora of kin scattered about. Some prefer the order provided by proximity to leaders,” she waved a palm at the men surrounding him, labeling them as this group, “But the Sisters, occasionally claiming the title of Weeping Widows, prefer a less constrained and loosely knit connection. A job is first deemed worthy of our attention, of our Grandfather’s attention, by a council and then dispatched out to a cell within proximity. Such is how I find myself here, sitting across from you.”
“We take allegiances quite seriously, as well as chosen tasks; therefore, while regrettable, I am not at liberty to discuss our associate. Even if I was I would not have many words to provide. I can tell you that personally I found him blindingly nouveau riche and dull. I can also tell you that I am here because he is trusted to pay his debts. The information I was initially provided about Yidara was that the boy had a penchant for loose women and narcotics. I have learned, unsurprisingly, that he is a follower of Slaanesh. Though his allegiance is loose and likely out of convenience.” She stifled an eye roll at the predictability of it all. She wasn’t sure where this Draco stood yet so she didn’t want to be insulting. “His previous residence has been vacated and it is looking like the boy went into hiding.”
“I was under the impression Yidara was known to you already.” She frowned momentarily and then brushed it away. “No bother, you seem to have quite the sway in these parts. It took three shattered fingers and one hell of a face lift to acquire your name, you know.” Her smile flexed. “Quite impressive. Now, if we come to an agreement; how would you plan on helping me locate this man?"
Draco's eyebrow was lifted at the woman's statement that he didn't know who Yidara was, his expression showing that he was almost insulted by it. A bluff, but a masterfully done one. "Your first assumption was correct. I am aware of the location of Mr Yidara... or at least were he should be. I will be the first to admit that I've had little reason to keep an eye on the little groupie through; You know as well as I do that the little bastard is just another toady of the Princess, sucking up to her just to get access to the best drugs and 'wildest' parties." The smirk that appeared on Draco's face suggested that the little bugger she was looking for couldn't even begin to dream what a wild party hosted by the Princess of Passion would look like. Few could.
Before he had the chance to continue, one of the whispers in his mind started to speak it. It was the kind of voice that you could imagine being spoken by someone rallying a crowd around them to raise up against a stagnate, oppressive regime and fight for change and the hope of a better tomorrow, through every ninth word was spoken by several different voices and a new voice would start speaking afterwards.
Change is coming. Help this woman and you'll and you'll be close enough to control where the pieces fall.
Thinking for a moment, Draco smiled a little as he stood up, picking up his pistol and sliding it into its holster before beckoning the two guards behind him. "We'll go out the back. If Mr Yidara isn't where I believe him to be, we will find someone who knows what dark hole you'll need to chase him down."
The list of things that broke through the fog of fever to reside in the ill favor of Rosalux were exceedingly limited, but ‘groupies’, as Draco so eloquently put it, held a special place there. Her distaste was such that his comment elevated his stature in her mind. While neither was really the friend type, Rosalux noticeably relaxed her shoulders and decided not to look into the odd willingness to help her. If it was a trick to dispose of her, she had no doubt he had easier ways. Without reservation she stood up, looking about at the rallying guards and then back to their Master.
“Please, lead the way Mr. Draco.”
How odd it was that the affluent cage of her upbringing had left certain skills much more conducive to this life than her last. Obtaining information for example. Information is a commodity, and the retrieval of such depends entirely on the individual in possession. There were those that could be persuaded with a bit of money or a well placed “Attaboy”. Some, well, some just needed a strong hand to show them the way. It was looking like a draw as to which pleased the jockey of those swaying hips better. She was weighing this behind heavily tinted glasses as she strolled through the hive.
Her day had already been a busy one and it seemed apt that her last tip, still red and crusted beneath her claws, had led her to a soup kitchen; nothing like a little bribery and homicide to get that appetite pumping. It wasn’t long before she stood facing the building, eyes darting to take in the structure and its clientele as her hand rested idly on the holstered bolter at her hip. Again, the idea of forming a plan nibbled at her consciousness and then was kicked away by a rumble from her neglected stomach. She didn’t know enough about this Draco to form a working plan, even if it had been her strong suit.
No bother, blanched lips curled into an honest smile born of intrigue as she walked through the door. She took only a moment to glance about the place before walking up to a man hovering over some soup. Would she like some? Why yes, yes she would. He handed her the bowl, ready to move his attention to the next hungry hands, before she leaned in to occupy his consideration. He hadn’t really looked at her until this moment and was mildly surprised at the girl that stood before him. Her sunglasses had yet to be removed and she looked a little anemic, but the button nose, high cheekbones and posture of genteel breeding shone through, chased by honey soaked words that jingled with the same enthusiasm that radiated from the odd specimen.
“I need to speak with Draco. When he has a moment you can send him my way.” She extended a finger in the direction of an empty seat, and then crossed with the soup to fill it. She sat and placed a napkin in her lap as her mother’s voice buzzed in the back of her mind about manners; an ever present reminder of how good life was now that her mother no longer existed beyond the walls of her own memories. Lips, forever tainted with that innocent grin, wrapped around the spoon. It was her turn to be pleasantly surprised because the soup was really quite delicious.
Chop Chop Chop Chop
Draco felt the stress of the day slide off his shoulders as the knife in his hand sliced through carrot after carrot, chopping each one that was placed on the chopping block in front of him into slices so that they could be thrown into a stew pot; It was a simple fact that the Noble was almost always busy with fresh faces that needed something to eat and thus food needed to be prepared and made almost around the clock. The only time that food wasn't being produced was when the stocks ran out and they had to wait for more supplies to arrive.
Chop Chop Chop Chop
Sadly Draco didn't get to cook as much as he would have liked to these days; His other duties and side projects required his attention and time after all. When he did get the chance to do so through, he was more then happy to do it.
"Sir, forgive me for bothering you but it seems that there is someone in the kitchen who wants to meet with you."
Chop Chop Ch-
The knife stopped mid cut as Draco turned his attention towards the acolyte that had interrupted his cooking. "Who is it?"
The acolyte sighed a little as he answered "We don't know. She isn't local at any rate despite the fact that she would fit in here. Acolyte Mormca spoke to her while he was handing out stew; He claims that she had the baring and speech of a noble woman, but looked and smelt like someone who had been slumming it in the lower hive for months without bathing."
This caught Draco's attention somewhat. The woman being described had all the signs of someone who had dedicated themselves to the service of Papa Nurgle, suggesting that she was a cultist. This was something of an bad sign; Whenever any of the cults had sent 'ambassadors' to talk with him, they tended to send a follower of the Princess to talk to him due to their more... persuasive nature. Nurgle worshipers tended to make good assassins through...
Draco had been opening his mouth with full intention of ordering that the woman be taken out the back and shot quietly when a familiar whisper entered his mind, easing his nerves and calming him down somewhat. He rather liked this voice, since it had always been friendly to him ever since he had first started to hear the voices, acting as a balm on his very soul whenever he started to get stressed out and near his breaking point.
Hear this one out. This daughter of decay may be of some use to you, I promise.
Closing his mouth as he considered the wise words given to him, he placed the knife down on the chopping block as he finally opened his mouth once more. "Have her escorted to my office. I do believe I wish to have a word with her."
...................................................
From out of the back, two men dressed in what appeared to be body armor and armed with lasguns that would have made any ganger of the lower hive drool with desire stepped out into the dinning hall, following one of the staff past numberous patrons of the soup kitchen until they arrived at the woman that had requested a meeting with their boss. While the guards themselves didn't seem actively hostile towards the woman, their body language suggested that they were only following orders and that they would follow the order to protect someone with the same zeal and willingness as they would follow the order to drag that person out the back and shoot them. "The master will see you now."
Provided that the woman came willingly, she would be escorted out the back and through a number of rooms before finally arriving at an office. Draco himself was seated at his desk, looking at the woman as she entered with a laspistol on his desk while two more of his guards stood either side of him, lasguns in hand but at ease for the moment. There was an empty seat opposite Draco and in clear view of the various armed people in the room.
Draco tapped the desk next to the laspistol out of habit before he stopped in order to speak "Take a seat Ms. I will admit that I am only speaking to you because a friend of your Grandfather's decided to vouch for you. So what do you wish to speak with me about?"
The bowl of soup was empty, save for the small amount unattainable within the dictates of social graces and with nothing else to occupy the girl had taken to fantasizing elaborate stories about her fellow patrons. She was just deciding the sexual kinks of a rather husky male when the armored guards consumed the entirety of the room’s attention. She pressed her palms to the table and stood to meet their approach, measured and as unthreatening in her own movements as she could muster. It wasn’t a difficult task seeing as her subtle frame was ever accompanied by that bemused grin.
There was no shame in her blatant once over of the meat bags, lips faltering only marginally at their use of the word “Master”. She’d always found the term to be misplaced; to have a man as a master seemed a slight to those we truly serve. This philosophy took hold in a sort of pity on her expression that, if noticed by the men, was sure to be misunderstood. She was a guest here though and so said nothing on the subject, instead a simple “Thank you,” was provided to the puppets and then a gesture for them to lead the way.
Her rhythmic pace took time with their own while her attention fluttered about the hallways and doors they passed through. Undoubtedly one in possession of viable sanity would question this lengthy course and what kind of finality lay at its resolution; but the girl’s sanity had long been pushed to the wayside in favor of more captivating endeavors. This lack of worry was not born of naivety though, she was well aware and coherent in regards to her situation. No reward without any risk they say.
Her eyes found the infamous Draco as she was escorted into the room and she slipped into the offered chair across from him. They seemed rather pleased with their weaponry and she made sure to take note, if only for their benefit. In turn, she was sure that the man across was well aware of her own weaponry, reiteration came when she removed the glasses and pushed them into the mess of hair on top of her head. She now met his gaze with one pale green eye and one that seemed in the midst of being devoured by inky blackness from the pupil out. One leg crossed the other and claw like digits were placed in clear view on her lap; no need to excite his flesh bags. They received a final once over before Draco was gifted the entirety of her attention. She allowed herself to feel honored, people rarely deemed her worthy of security measures until she had an object knuckle deep into their limited existence.
The mention of Nurgle pleased her, but she suppressed the deviation of conversation that acknowledgment would bring. “Whatever the reason for your attention, be sure that I am grateful. I understand a man such as yourself has little free time, therefore I will try to be brief. An associate of mine is rather keen on locating a man by the name of Traxel Yidara and I was told you may be able to assist me.” She had decided the man did not appear the charitable type, which was slightly humorous considering he ran a soup kitchen, the thought infected her smile but was not allowed to reach vocal cords. “Of course, I am aware that nothing is free. Such a petty man as Traxel should be of no consequence to you, and I will happily tell the Sisters and my associate of your aid. Good favor and favors are assured.”
Draco did not like this woman much in the same way that a cat disliked having a strange, new cat on the block trying to take a nap in its warm, sunny place; A lifetime of being raised in a noble house in the upper hive and the activities that he had been up to as of late had ensured that the only expression that the woman would get to see was thoughtful amusement. The fact that he knew bugger all about who Traxel Yidara was did not change the fact that he was planning to twist her arm to get the best possible deal out of her for his assistance.
"And why might your associate be interested in the whereabouts of Mr Yidara? Due to my unfamiliarity with both your associate and the so called Sisters you speak of, you can understand why I find your offer of a favor... questionable. You're going to have to give me a much more detailed picture of the situation before I deem it worth investing in it."
The dirty blonde hair belonging to Rosalux bobbed along with a nod. She was far from the conceit that would cause her to balk at his lack of acknowledgment; in fact any disappointment she had was directed towards herself for not providing enough information in her introduction. Pale lips pursed as she weighed the relevance and secrecy in relation to the noble man before her, but there was only a timid beat before she began expounding on her previous request.
“As you know I have a plethora of kin scattered about. Some prefer the order provided by proximity to leaders,” she waved a palm at the men surrounding him, labeling them as this group, “But the Sisters, occasionally claiming the title of Weeping Widows, prefer a less constrained and loosely knit connection. A job is first deemed worthy of our attention, of our Grandfather’s attention, by a council and then dispatched out to a cell within proximity. Such is how I find myself here, sitting across from you.”
“We take allegiances quite seriously, as well as chosen tasks; therefore, while regrettable, I am not at liberty to discuss our associate. Even if I was I would not have many words to provide. I can tell you that personally I found him blindingly nouveau riche and dull. I can also tell you that I am here because he is trusted to pay his debts. The information I was initially provided about Yidara was that the boy had a penchant for loose women and narcotics. I have learned, unsurprisingly, that he is a follower of Slaanesh. Though his allegiance is loose and likely out of convenience.” She stifled an eye roll at the predictability of it all. She wasn’t sure where this Draco stood yet so she didn’t want to be insulting. “His previous residence has been vacated and it is looking like the boy went into hiding.”
“I was under the impression Yidara was known to you already.” She frowned momentarily and then brushed it away. “No bother, you seem to have quite the sway in these parts. It took three shattered fingers and one hell of a face lift to acquire your name, you know.” Her smile flexed. “Quite impressive. Now, if we come to an agreement; how would you plan on helping me locate this man?"
Draco's eyebrow was lifted at the woman's statement that he didn't know who Yidara was, his expression showing that he was almost insulted by it. A bluff, but a masterfully done one. "Your first assumption was correct. I am aware of the location of Mr Yidara... or at least were he should be. I will be the first to admit that I've had little reason to keep an eye on the little groupie through; You know as well as I do that the little bastard is just another toady of the Princess, sucking up to her just to get access to the best drugs and 'wildest' parties." The smirk that appeared on Draco's face suggested that the little bugger she was looking for couldn't even begin to dream what a wild party hosted by the Princess of Passion would look like. Few could.
Before he had the chance to continue, one of the whispers in his mind started to speak it. It was the kind of voice that you could imagine being spoken by someone rallying a crowd around them to raise up against a stagnate, oppressive regime and fight for change and the hope of a better tomorrow, through every ninth word was spoken by several different voices and a new voice would start speaking afterwards.
Change is coming. Help this woman and you'll and you'll be close enough to control where the pieces fall.
Thinking for a moment, Draco smiled a little as he stood up, picking up his pistol and sliding it into its holster before beckoning the two guards behind him. "We'll go out the back. If Mr Yidara isn't where I believe him to be, we will find someone who knows what dark hole you'll need to chase him down."
The list of things that broke through the fog of fever to reside in the ill favor of Rosalux were exceedingly limited, but ‘groupies’, as Draco so eloquently put it, held a special place there. Her distaste was such that his comment elevated his stature in her mind. While neither was really the friend type, Rosalux noticeably relaxed her shoulders and decided not to look into the odd willingness to help her. If it was a trick to dispose of her, she had no doubt he had easier ways. Without reservation she stood up, looking about at the rallying guards and then back to their Master.
“Please, lead the way Mr. Draco.”
