Stocke (
makehistoria) wrote2014-11-10 08:49 pm
Entry tags:
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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, <MOIRAE>.
FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 44.78.67.42 | ||||
| • Stocke uses <swordpacts> and <moirae> interchangeably; the former especially for Devil's Nest business. Any of his friends/fellow Nest employees probably have his number. |

<moirae> -> action?
take your time
[It's going to be a long bit on Stocke's end, even if he hitches a ride.]
i'll see you there
< blackhand > --> of course, gimme some action
I'll be waiting.
[Garrett took his time getting there, rustling about the clocktower for a good long while and seeing what parts he could gather close by for the re-remake of his trusty bow. It would take a few days but getting a start early never hurt anyone.
After some hours past, he finally headed back out towards the old Devil's Nest. He set up a small web in a comfortable corner up high and tight and dark, and like he said he waited.
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[His expression doesn't show it, but his lashing tendrils are a dead giveaway. They stay in frustrated motion even as he circles the Nest, looking for Garrett. (He doesn't actually enter the edges - he's loath to let it strip him of his monster powers, and besides, it's burned near to the ground. Garrett's fond of high places - if he's anywhere, he'll be on one of the surrounding buildings -)]
[Still, the shade's tendrils perk immediately once he catches sight of the edge of Garrett's web. The arachne himself blends into the dark, but Stocke's night vision is enough to see a vague shape - he raises a hand in greeting himself.]
This is familiar, [he comments, wry, once he's close enough to do it without raising his voice. Last time Garrett came back, wasn't Stocke also looking up at a web...?]
[The shade seems... mostly unchanged, at least on the surface. Bar one thing - there's an odd cloak draped over his shoulders, one that looks like it's made of shadow.]
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He also noted how Stocke avoided crossing over the threshold of the charred remains. That sort of cinched it for Garrett, confirming his assumption, or so he hoped. Still, he did not move away from his perch and continued to watch Stocke silently for the moment, not giving himself away.
Despite this, he was rewarded when Stocke did finally find him stowed away - with a wave and a gentle, if but wry, greeting from the shade. It was enough to set him fully at ease and the tension in the web shifted slightly as he did. One slender appendage betrayed him with a flick that looked suspiciously like a wave back at the shade.
He cocked his head to the side as Stocke approached him from below, gazing down at the shade with a hint of wry amusement himself.]
What can I say. I like my creature comforts.
[There was a pun in there somewhere and Garrett did his best to keep a straight face as he pulled it out like a dead weight behind him while he tried to tip-toe through a field of delicate, and poisonous, flowers.]
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[You can see the moment he realizes. It's something in his eyes, the way they drop to a dim gray for a full two seconds. Did the arachne just...]
Now I'm sure you're an imposter, [the shade tosses back once he's recovered, eyes flickering in an amused static pattern. He springs off the ground, barely bending his legs, and darts up roughly to Garrett's eye level; there he settles in empty air, drifting.]
...we weren't able to stay in Vandare. [Quiet, with far less levity. He doesn't add even a dry, 'As you might've guessed,' - this subject's still too sore for him.] So we went to Mana for our new place.
It's impossible to get in without a guide who already lives there. Or a matchbox. [There's the explanation of the 'complicated' earlier, why he went to meet Garrett instead of just telling the man where he was.]
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But there was little time to dwell on the nicer aspects, as usual around here. This place was just too horrible to ever let anything akin to happiness last.
Garrett was used to that. Either here or back in the City, that sort of darkness seemed to follow him around.]
Huh. [Was his initial response. A thoughtful pause ensued before he responded in earnest, speaking slowly.] So you went all out, got some sort of... magical protection? I suppose that's interesting.
[A beat followed and then Garrett said wryly:] Or it would be. Kinda makes it hard for a thief to challenge himself when you give away the secret to penetrating the most impenetrable 'lock' on the peninsula. [How could you deprive me of that? his eyes seemed to accuse.]
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[Which, okay, their city could probably cover. But Greed's especially interested in monsters.]
...but it is more impenetrable than before - not enough matchbooks out there for someone to stage an assault. I'm just sure it wouldn't have given you pause.
[Hm. You know what he hasn't actually clarified?] And I think you'll find something to occupy yourself if you visit. Even without the challenge. The new place is a city. [And not a city like Vandare, where they took over half - a city straight from scratch.]
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[His ego was pacified. You win.]
A whole new city, hm? [That was quite the wish. Garrett paused again, thoughtfully, a pair of his spider legs working at nothing in particular behind him. When they stopped and folded down closer to his back, he spoke again.] I guess a visit couldn't hurt.
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[For a moment the shade's eyes slip sideways to the burned shell of the Nest again. He pauses, tendrils moving slowly, then returns his gaze to the thief. A bit softer:] ...it's good to see you again.
[Then, dry -] Though I don't envy you the Fog God's favour, if she's brought you back a third time.
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There was a small glint to his eye that held his slight amusement, gone in a flash.] It's comfortable, but it can always be made in a better place than this.
[He almost ignored it. It would be simple to bypass the statement altogether and pretend it was never said or heard. But he did hear it ... and quietly replied.] You as well.
[His eyes rolled skyward and he huffed out a breath of air audibly.] I know. I can't imagine why she'd want me that badly. [His gaze dropped back down to Stocke.] Let's not stick around to find out. Take the lead.
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It's not close. We'll make better time if we catch one of the buses.
[Or hitch a ride on top of one. Same thing.]
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Anyway, he did not comment though so maybe he would endure it this one time. For Stocke.
There was a moment of consideration before the arachne lowered himself the rest of the way down on his web line, touching down on the ground lightly with his feet. He would have stayed up high on his own. He may even end up there again yet once they started heading out and Garrett got a feel for the direction they were headed. He could easily track Stocke from above. Well, unless they turned into a game. In which case...]
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[The shade does seem a little startled by Garrett joining him on the ground - but he's hardly going to object. He sets a fast pace to where he knows the Vandare-Bavan bus stops, at this time of night; no games this time, though maybe if Garrett prompts him... Either way, the arachne should have no trouble picking up where they're going.]
[The bus is idling when they arrive, set to take off in about five minutes. Stocke jerks his head in the direction of the roof, assuming that - like him - Garrett will want to avoid the humans crammed inside.]
[The shade himself steps inside just a moment to pay for the both of them instead of sneaking above - if only to make sure there's incentive to keep running these things this late, a good time for nocturnal monsters. He ignores any and all comments and exclamations from human passengers, melting into his shadow form to drift through the roof and settle (solid) up top.]
[The driver doesn't react. He's probably seen more than a few monsters in his time, taking this route nightly.]
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Without preamble, Garrett climbed on top of the bus and waited. When Stocke joined him up there Garrett's only response to the shade paying was a very obviously lifted eyebrow.
Though it was not in his expression or demeanor, and he had no intention of sharing his opinion, he did not approve of the payment. Well, "approve or disapprove" wasn't really the right idea; he just didn't understand it much less would he ever think of doing it. He couldn't fathom why Stocke had just bothered.
Hence the almost questioning eyebrow raise towards the other.]
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[The engine rumbles to life; Stocke leans onto his hands, digging his claws into the roof.]
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[The arachne hunkered down, steadying himself against the upcoming wind once the bus got out of town and set course with a decent speed. He didn't have to dig his claws in; his 'stickiness' would work well enough, reinforced with a bit of webbing.]
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[Ok, fine, no, that's not accurate. Only Garrett and about half the population of Djävulenstad...]
[The ride's a quiet one, with very few stops between Vandare and Bavan, at places too small to put on the map. Even those stops last for no more than a minute each, just long enough for someone to get off. When they do get to Bavan, Stocke waits several stops within the city before abruptly motioning at Garrett to get off -]
[(While the bus is still moving, of course. ...he's sure Garrett will have no problems handling that.)]
[- before cutting a course to the northern end of the city. They've still got some walking to do, but the trip's shorter from here.]
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He followed Stocke from his vantage up top, again disappearing periodically only to reappear a few minutes later with nothing to say of his 'invisibility' act. Like in Vandare, he simply was exploring old pathways and hideouts as they moved through the city.]
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[The shade melts into his less solid form for speed - though as an arachne, Garrett can probably outrace him twice over. Their path from here goes along the main road north for a while, then splits off - some time after it does, Stocke slows to a halt. He drops both back into his nearly-human form and onto the sand that's now underfoot, motioning Garrett closer.]
...you'll have to stay near me to get past the border. [A pause. Stocke won't say he's remembering something, but...] No need to touch, but be close enough that you could.
[Thirty seconds' worth of steps later, the edges of the city bloom out of the sand.]
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He did as told, sticking ridiculously close to the shade without actually touching. He seemed really good at it actually.
Once the cityscape became visible Garrett looked around his new surroundings mildly. Though his gaze was always assessing he tended to look bored more than anything else. It was just one more city to memorize and
terrorizestalk through the shadows. He'd figure it out with ease given the time.Later. Now, he stuck with Stocke as the shade led the way ever forward.]
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[Not to say there aren't people, even at this time of night - or perhaps because it's this time of night? They watch Garrett cagily
maybe anticipating that terrorizing?but seem more familiar with Stocke.][The shade himself raises a tendril in a sort-of wave at a few, but his attention's clearly still focused on Garrett.] ...here we are.
[He jerks his head toward the city center, visible through a faint incline toward the coast. As well as by holding the city's two highest points - a hill with the glittering lights of a single building perched on the top, and... is that a clocktower? That's a clocktower.]
Nest's that way. [Wry -] In the very center.
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[He sounded matter-of-fact laced with a hint of dry and dark humor. It seemed to be a running theme of cities to start with something nice that belied the lower ends. Maybe it was just the nature of always having new things built while old things just got even more old and decayed with time. Either way, he didn't really care so much as find it a fact of life.
Garrett's attention was drawn almost instinctively to the highest structure in that area though. The clocktower was a familiar sight no matter where it was or how it was built. If there was a clocktower in a city he was usually drawn to it. Of course, back in his own City it had been a convenient place to set up due to circumstances surrounding the supposedly haunted clocktower. But here it was just a welcome sight due to the familiarity of the inside workings of the clock mechanism that he had learned how to maintain on his own long ago.
He glanced back towards Stocke without another word. Waited.]
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The tower?
[Come to think of it, wasn't Garrett's lair back in Vandare - aside from his relatively regular visits to the web in the nest - another clocktower?]
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...Occupied?
[Yes, that was where he looked. And yes, that was what interested him. And even more subtly implied, yes, that was where he had lived in Vandare, too.]
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...someone down in the city checks on it to keep it going. Not very often. [Which. There's probably been a couple times the poor thing just stopped and didn't get fixed for a couple hours, if not a couple days. Is it even always showing the right time?] Haven't seen another soul do anything else but pass underneath.
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