Stocke (
makehistoria) wrote2014-11-10 08:49 pm
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| • 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. |

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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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...they're not hard to maintain if you know how. But it's better if they're worked on a little every night. [Or day, but you know, he's a night person so it comes out that way. I mean, he's not volunteering to take over or anything. But he's completely volunteering to take over.]
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[Deliberately vague between whether he means "Offering to take over" or "Offering to teach me how." He can leave Garrett an out, either way.]
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Only if it's left alone. [aka: if it's his.]
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[Oh no. Now one of Stocke's tendrils is twitching in restrained amusement.]
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This isn't funny. Stop that.]
Fine.
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[He huffs out a soft breath, making his tendrils still.] You want to take a look now?
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Why not.
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[The east city - deeper in than the outskirts, not quite the middle - is bustling at this time of night. Most businesses seem to still be open, and those few that have official hours listed do look to run from afternoon to the wee morning hours. Much of Djävulenstad is nocturnal.]
[There's also a layer of darkness and grime over much of it - not exactly unclean, but these definitely aren't the well-swept streets of Bavan's richer districts. It's not impossible to find little glittery things lying in the chinks between cobblestone - beads, pieces of glass.]
[Candles glimmer in many business's windows. Only white ones are lit, but some windowsills carry other colours for other days - yellow, red, green, purple.]
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There was a moment when the thief also had a small rest on top of an old wooden gate, his head cocked to one side as he stared at a nearby window with some interest. There didn't appear to be much worth stealing inside, not that could be seen from this window at least, but his focus seemed transfixed.
As they continued on a few seconds later, Garrett sidled up next to Stocke and walked close to him for a while. Eventually,]
What are those candles about?
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[His tendrils flick - after a moment, he adds,] They'll light different colours if something's happening. Most of them don't matter as much, or are easy to figure out. [At least, by Stocke's standards...]
...but red means there's something on the loose out in the city for us monsters to handle, and a purple light - there's someone dying inside who doesn't mind being fed on.
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Interesting idea. Yours? ...Greed's? Or the city residents' idea?
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[He pauses.] Never did ask him if it was his idea or one of the humans he's fond of - but it wasn't any of the rest of us. [Us being monsters.]
[The city doesn't seem to quiet as they leave the eastern half and dive into the center. In fact, it only seems to be getting more busy, especially as they approach multicoloured neon. In the distance, even the windows and roofs dance - lights blocked and unveiled as people move in front of them.]
[Stocke considers for a moment, looks back at Garrett, then beckons them down a side street. Garrett can probably tell they're taking a more roundabout route to the clocktower now, but... while the shade doesn't mind crowds, he gets the feeling his thief companion won't be very happy with the press of people.]
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