mercenary jobs #3 — open to all

[unweave]

Who: Anyone interested in taking some mercenary jobs via Aranea Highwind's offerings. This log is focused on Wyver and can be found on job boards across the city as well as personal handwaved texts.
What: Mercenary posting!
When: N/A
Where: N/A
Warning(s): Possible sex threads based off heat-event for this month. This was posted early for the holidays, btw. Happy Thanksgiving, etc!

Thank you for stopping by to check out this month's job postings for Highwind Hires — a freelance mercenary group!

Aranea Highwind will ICly be contacting characters and offering them jobs based off the assumption she will receive 30% of the cut.

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JOB #1 — DOOR TO DOOR

With the abundance of new visitors, it seems there have been ample amounts of donations to the temple. Unfortunately, that is not enough. When you approach, you're stopped by a young woman named Igo who is requesting you help her: please pass out 100 pamphlets to refugees enlisting donations.

OUTCOMES:
- For all pamphlets passed out, the Shaman will pay you 100 Silver.

---

JOB #2 — DRAGON DERBY

In the West, you hear about this month's Wyver Derby, a small event where dragons are put to race on a track. It seems the fan favorite is Fangface but the newcomer Wingslash ranked high in their first few races. You're hired for body guard duty, keeping the peace and ensuring no riots occur. Enjoy drinks as you watch the show, try to bet for the right one.

OUTCOMES:
- Wingslash wins by a nose, so anyone who votes for that dragon will win double their bet.
- Those who bet on Fangface or any other participant will lose their bet.

---

JOB #3 — AFTERMATH

Tied to Job #2, the Derby went relatively smoothly... You're enjoying discounted drinks at the bar. It wasn't until you notice one of the ticketers cashing out a suspicious amount of extra money to a small group of people who very vocally complained about losing. As the small group leaves, you can either: report the ticketer or two, track them down.

OUTCOMES:
- If you simply report the ticketer, you'll be rewarded with an additional 125 Silver.
- If you track down the group, you'll find they're all in a small gambling ring, petty crooks that drank too much and most certainly had an inside connection. You must be ready for a fight — all 4 will attack you with fists and small pocket knives.

---

JOB #4 — VILE LITTLE THINGS

You were contracted directly from Aranea Highwind for a monster hunt. A Vileling that was once kept as a pet grew hostile in the past few weeks before finally escaping its owner in Old City and reeking havoc on pet-owners. Your job is to track it down before more pets are killed. Aranea instructed you to 'take care of it', but upon your journey, the Vileling owner (Bekins) has insisted you save it and bring it back to Murkhollow alive. Of course, they offer a good price.


OUTCOMES:
- Aranea is offering a flat 400 silver to wipe it out.
- You can lie or oppose Aranea's order, you which will gain negative CR from the mercenary leader. Bekins will reward you with 140 silver and you must find a way to return it to Murkhollow.

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JOB #5 — RED NIGHT LIGHT

Bodyguard duty seems a bit more... mature tonight. With the week waning on and people acting on lust and emotions, there has been a bit more call for those looking to patrol the more savory areas of Wyver. You'll be paid a flat fee of 450 Silver for a night's worth of work.

There are three areas to watch over: a bordello, a herb shop, and a gang's rumored hide-out.


OUTCOMES:
- If you choose the bordello, you will find yourself playing body guard for one of the establishment's ... best worker and favorite client. You can peek in on the woman and her partner at the risk of being caught or you can escort them out afterwards. The woman offers a tip of 100 Silver and also the chance to have drinks with her...
- If you choose the herb shop, you will find yourself sensitive to the mix of aromas. A contact high ensures your inhibitions are loosened and with the lust in the air? Who knows what that means...
- If you choose the gang's rumored hideout, you will find illegal tusk and scale trading. You'll have to contend with 4 possible gang members all armed with weapons. Fight them or flee to report, you'll earn an additional 150 Silver.

---

Have fun! If you have any questions, feel free to PM me! These are all loosely based on your choices, so feel free to go wild with them. The outcomes only are indication of what the jobs would offer. If you're interested in having your character offer a job in the future, please let me know!

Comments

[likethelight]

— ! [ Wahhh, it's a good thing his mask is quick to cover his face without his needing to do anything, because whatever she did even with it he can barely see for a moment.

Which, ah... isn't good. Given the creature is already blind and just fine like that. And now Allen is just slightly less blind than it. Lux why

At least he has good instincts, at least when it comes to avoiding imminent death, because he throws himself out of the way before one of its scythe-like claws snaps the branch in two where he'd just been. Bodily head over heals over the back of the creature but—! Free and clear, and grabbing onto one of the armor places on its back with his right hand to stop his fall.

Where he blinks for a moment, as he could swear he hears a bell. And in fact he does, kind of like someone might put on their cat, and as he continues to blink the spots from his eyes — he sees why.

It has a collar on. Of course it does. A dainty powder blue one with a bell.

Monogrammed. ]

This thing was the pet??!

[ it's also rearing up and bucking wildly in an effort to dislodge him ]

[judicia]

Oh.

( That's twice in as many minutes that Venom has somehow managed to catch Anders off guard. He's usually a lot better than this, a lot more charming and smooth and not fumbling what he was going to say, but he's not used to other people being this nice and amiable to him.

He lets out a little embarrassed chuckle, before asking, ) You really want to do something with me after your shift?

[moneytwin]

Probably for the best, they get so upset about that for some reason.

[ Well. Depends on the--no, no it doesn't.

There's not much in the opposite direction, but its not long before she notices his attention is focused on a newer, fresher trail, and she abandons her own sad section of mud and misery to look at multicoloured goop. ]

If that green stuff is its blood, could be part of our job is already done. The prey certainly looks like it put up a fight.

[ Reaching a hand over her shoulder, she pulls her longbow into her hand, retrieving an arrow from her quiver with the other. Perhaps she won't need it..but better to be prepared. With a nod to Nash, she moves quickly to the corner then pauses, all the better to peer around it cautiously. ]

[poolhall_killer]

[Venom's still new to this "operating in the light" thing, and usually he's giving people some kind of message of death.

The soft light surprises him as he watches Sen finish casting the spell. And soon Venom sees the barrier in action when one guy comes in with a knife. It doesn't come near him, allowing the former assassin to counter with a billiard ball to the gut.

This fight will indeed end quickly.]

I appreciate the defense boost. I didn't know you could cast magic.

[poolhall_killer]

Oh course I do. Why wouldn't I?

[Venom can't help smiling at the chuckle. Anders is rather adorable when he's embarrassed. He moves a bit closer.]

I consider you a friend.

[latkje]

[ He nods— his own weapon isn't as obvious as a longbow, but he clutches his left wrist significantly. Nash doesn't have a semi-witty rejoinder this time, no use announcing your presence to the mark, even if the joke is really good. He knows how to walk silently, and a trained ear (or maybe just an elven one) will notice.

And lo and behold, around the corner lies the Vieling. It's momentarily distracted, trying to worm its way down into the sewers through one of the grates. ]

[rememberher]

[ She isn't used to fighting with a partner, and how was she to know their target would be blind! Also, she gave him ample warning (in her eyes), so clearly there's no problem. But the flustered yelp from Allen doesn't go ignored. It makes her stop mid-cast in fact, eyes widening in disbelief. ]

You can't be serious!

[ WHO KEEPS A GIANT DEATH WORM AS A PET—no, she knows the type who who would. It's probably an eccentric noble because Lux has known enough of them to understand their "unique tastes". It's why she can't help but put a hand on her forehead for a moment because really is this their life right now?

Lux might not agree with her, but at least she understands why Aranea made the offer that she did, because there is no way Lux is going to bring something this dangerous back to its owner. it's probably named Precious or something ridiculous like that, ugh.

But all right, if that's how this is going to be, then this calls for a change of tactics, especially if this monster doesn't rely on sight to find its prey. Vibrations in the ground maybe? That's not something she can easily replicate, but if it responds to sound... ]

Hey you! Big and ugly! Don't you know it's rude to ignore a lady?!

[ Yes, she's resorting to name-calling here. Bad name calling. Anything to make noise and direct attention elsewhere. Which is why she lobs a few quickly-cast spell bolt at the vileling—one then two, and a third for good measure—the rush and hum of magic flying past. It's enough to get the beast's attention, as it pitches back one last time to try to launch Allen from its back before slithering toward the source of the sound.

Quicker than she expected, actually. Hmm, that might be bad.

You know, this plan worked a little better in her head, she just wasn't anticipating this thing to be able to slither so fast. She's going to trust him to be able to fall without breaking his back and back her up. ]

[puffing]

[ Bigby's oddly patient for a man who has just subjected himself to liberal portion of physical violence in such a short period of time. perhaps it's because the moon is no longer fucking with his head like it had been, but he felt in control of himself. his heart was still pumping and adrenaline was still pouring through his veins, but he is oddly... content with lying in the couch awaiting his impromptu medic.

he doesn't have the heart to tell her that he is going to have the wound healed over before the night ends. it may run the risk of pissing her off for wasting her time, but hey. she was the one that is overeager to see him drop trou again. ]

Little unfair, don't you think? You're the one who was trying to choke me by my tie. Besides, it doesn't sound like you can do much to remember it either.

[ he isn't all too surprised of her gentleness, actually. the both of them may have had their moments of getting rough with one another, but he has a hard time imagining Rosalind making it a point to botch her first aid. maybe if he sasses off to her too much, but he'd like to think he's being nice right now... """nice"""... ]

Well, here's me asking. You look pretty healthy for a dead person.

[ there's no denying that the antiseptic is potent enough to make him hiss every now and then with discomfort, but he takes it like a champ (heh). when she's done cleaning him up, he merely lets out a gust of hot air blow through his nose. ]

It's just a knife wound, Rosalind. You don't have to sound like it's attractive on me or something.

and speaking of tl;dr

[originallutece]

[Well, that gets her attention. She shoots him an annoyed glance and straightens up, reaching to thread her needle.]

I'm pleased that the wound is neat. Don't make it sound vulgar.

[She falls silent for a few seconds, taking the time to clean the needle and prick it lightly against her finger to ensure it's sharp enough. Skin is tougher than most people realize, and it takes a fair bit of effort to pierce it again and again. She hasn't any anesthesia; she's hoping he'll be all right with the pain.

(Someday, he'll tell her about how fast he heals, and she'll be quite annoyed. But that's for later).]

. . . it's a bit of a story. But it starts when I was seventeen or so. I haven't any idea if your universe was anything like mine, but where I originally hailed from, a woman in the scientific field wasn't simply unusual, but entirely unheard of. At the time, that didn't bother me. I'd managed to get into Girton University, and what's more, I graduated top of my class. I was eager for a chance to prove myself, and yet the second I left school, I found I couldn't get a lick of funding. No matter that I knew my theories were correct, that I was on to something great . . . at best, I was laughed at, and at worst . . .

Well. In any case. Eventually, I found someone who would listen. A religious man. Comstock was his name, Zachary Hale Comstock. He told me he'd had a vision of a flying city, and that he believed I was sent from God to help him achieve that vision.

[She glances up. All her incredulity and disapproval is clear in her expression; she focuses back on the wound once again. Rosalind slips the needle forward, gritting her teeth as she forces it through his skin.]

But he had money. And as it happened, I could help him achieve his vision. My theory of atomic suspension revolved around making things . . . well, not fly, but simply fail to fall, but it hardly made a difference to his gaze.

And so, with his funding, I gave him his glorious Columbia.

Well. You can well imagine what people thought then. Here was a man who had foreseen the impossible, and somehow, the impossible appeared. They hailed him as a prophet, and he decided the title suited him. He decided he was blessed from God, and I, his dear helper, was a tool to be used continuously. So the funding continued, and soon enough I had enough money to grant him another gift: the ability to play prophet again and again.

I was working on a device, you see, that could open windows into other universes. It took me seven years to even come up with the proper machinery, and even then, they weren't doorways. Just . . . snatches of visions. But they were enough. He could see how the future might go, or had gone in other worlds. Add some vague wording and his own natural charisma, and people believed everything he said, ignoring what inconsistencies might occasionally pop up.

Sixteen years passed in such a fashion.

[A pause. The wound is almost entirely stitched up; she stares at it blankly for a few seconds, then resumes her work. He voice is brisker now, eager to skip past this part of the story.]

There was another man. Jeremiah Fink, who fancied himself an inventor. He was clever enough, but his true talent lay in stealing the work of others and passing it off as his own. He made his fortune that way; by the time sixteen years had passed, he'd become the richest man in the city. But that wasn't enough for him.

He used to--

[A beat. Her lips press tight together, and she shakes her head.]

In any case. Sixteen years on that floating city, and at some point, Comstock realized that we were the only ones who knew his dirty secrets. And he realized the surest way to make sure no one ever found out what we knew was to kill us.

So he hired Fink, who had spent sixteen years coveting us, staring after us in jealousy and, I suspect, lust. He promised him that if he killed us, he'd get our patents. Every invention, every single idea we'd ever had, they'd all be his, and he could make a fortune off just one.

It was barely a choice.

October 31st, 1909. He'd sabotaged our machine . . . the one that tore open windows into other worlds. It exploded, and in the process, tore us apart. And once our bodies were recovered and carried away, the little weasel snuck in, rifling through our drawers and taking it all for himself. And not just that, oh no, that wasn't enough. He went through our personal effects, he stole my diaries, he took a portrait I had of--

[She's getting off topic, but she's never going to stop being angry about Fink. Rosalind shakes her head.]

Anyway. The problem with killing a person in such a fashion is that it's not conventional. It tore us apart, yes, and scattered us among all the worlds. Suddenly we weren't human, not anymore-- we were more. We could see all the worlds, all the choices, all the doors . . . and we could move among them. Fluidly, easily, much like you might move through a house.

[There. The final stitch, and she tugs it tight. She knows she's switched from singular to plural again, but that hadn't been deliberate so much as a natural inclination. It hardly matters. He knows she has a counterpart.]

1/2

[likethelight]

[ Lux no ]

2/2

[likethelight]

[ Home run ✩ She got it! Noise apparently works. (Also lobbing spells at it.) Even with Allen being a nuisance clinging to its back like he is.

Which by the way, just got a lot harder with how the vileling bodily throws itself into violent lunge, zigzagging over the boggy ground with the aid of its scythe-like arms. Straight for the light mage that had just stung it and revealed her position, letting out a gurgling, chittering sound of chitin clacking together. Shit..

Somewhere in the back of his mind Allen isn't entirely sure if Innocence is really meant for combating violent beasts and he doesn't believe in monsters being monsters....... but this thing doesn't factor into his love of humanity at all so yeah, it's a monster. He's going to go with this counts. Also he has to do whatever he can to stop it. Even if it's a pet he promised they'd see what they could do to save — nobody should have been keeping this as a pet.

Rearing back, he raises his left hand high, white-gold claws catching the fading light. ]

Edge — [ fluorescing with their own light ]

— End!

[ Which he slams down with raw destructive force upon its back in a burst of light. A gutteral, alien scream coming from the vileling as it plows facefirst into the dirt from the impact.

But with enough momentum it's still going straight for Lux. ]

[judicia]

I consider you a friend, too.

( Which only makes it all the more ridiculous for him to be getting this flustered over Venom wanting to spend time with him, but what can a man do. A tiny smile touches his lips at the prospect. )

Have you visited any of the springs around town yet? I heard there's a real nice one on the west end. ( It might be a nice respite after a long day of guard duty. Anders' demeanor gets a little more bashful again, though, when he asks, hopefully, ) Maybe we can go check it out?

[moneytwin]

[ Daggers? And given the stealth with which he moves, no doubt he must have rogue training like her, like her brother.

The vileling writhes, trying to squeeze itself down between grating and sewer opening, green ichor dripping along its side. And beyond it, the source of the blue blood: a turkey-esque bird of some sort, though its head is decidedly crushed. One wing has been ripped aside, and its belly torn asunder, and Vex's mouth flattens into a thin line.

Then a shrill squeal, as her arrow is let fly, burrowing itself into the fleshy tail, and it turns towards the source of the pain, bearing thin rows of needle-sharp teeth their way. ]

Your turn!

[poolhall_killer]

I can't say I have.

[His experiences with springs tend to be mixed, at best. But for Anders, he's willing to give these new ones a chance.]

Let's do that. I could use a long soak after standing here for hours.

[ownit]

[It really is.]

I better fucking get paid, I'll tell you what. As much as I like wracking up gentle points, this guy's gotta eat.

[Dio frowns more. Does he ever not frown?]

If their religion doesn't even have enough followers free to spread the word of their God can't say I'd put much stock in it.

[Ouch. Someone has Religious Opinions.]

[1/2]

[rememberher]

[ She has a plan! Or at least she had one until he slams his clawed hand down with such force that she's certain that should be the end of it. That's it, isn't it? There's no way it should be able to do much of anything after taking a blow like that, right?

Then why is it still sliding toward her?! OH GODS WHY! ]

[2/2]

[rememberher]

[ It's quick and a little clumsy, the way she tugs the glove off her right hand. She doesn't even take the time to pocket it, because time is precious when there's a giant monster barreling forward with the force of a freight train. A freight train with blades attached. It's fine, she can pick up her glove later. Maybe when she doesn't have to worry about being crushed or run through.

Light surging around her hand in a torrent of light and color, she grits her teeth before pitching it forward, angling it toward the ground. It might look like she's missed (it's right in front of her, how could she miss), but even as she darts to the side, her hand begins to glow, before— ]

Allen!

[ She closes her hand, and the light bomb ignites, pushing a blast of energy against the vileling. Hopefully it's enough to slow it to a stop, and not knock off its rider in the process. Moving object, meet an indomitable force of will. ]

[frombetrayal]

... "gentle points"?

[God, he's weird.

But, wait.]

You mean to say that you won't be able to eat if they won't pay you...?

[That's a problem. She can't in good conscience let this guy go hungry, but it's not like she's made of money herself...]

Do you have food for tonight, at least?

[ownit]

[Haru don't feel bad for him he deserves to starve.]

Tonight? Yeah, yeah...I'm fine. You know, taking it one day at a time and all that.

[He looks a bit awkward, adjusting his top hat and avoiding her eyes.]

I'm not some kinda charity case just cause I don't have a full-time job.

[Help him he's not good at labor. :( ]

[puffing]

—He used to what?

[ Bigby's listening to it all, digesting every word and trying to make sense of how a woman like Rosalind walks into her inevitable death and the powers that come from it in turn. he leans back, debating on taking a cigarette out and enjoying the nicotine's natural ability to mellow oneself out. it would be rude to start suddenly blowing smoke in her face in the midst of her story and her fixing him up, so he decides to simply place one in his mouth to chew on thoughtfully as he leans back.

other than his initial question, he's surprisingly quiet. he doesn't pay much attention to the stitching, but his eyes do idly lower themselves to watch her handiwork. Bigby imagines that, even if his tolerance to pain wasn't obscenely high as is, her clean-up would be as painless as can be. he has to remind himself to give her a proper kudos at some point. maybe. can't go and fatten her ego up any further, now can he. ]

So... you're a ghost, in pretty much every sense of the word. A living ghost. [ not that surprising in his world, really. but still, it's one hell of a thing to swallow. ] Can't imagine you took all of that well. And your partner? All else considering, you turned out alright. I can only imagine there's a tragic ending you haven't gotten to yet.

[ Bigby has indeed noticed that she talks in plural tense quite a bit. the transition from "I" to "we" was so natural that he almost didn't notice it, but it gives him a good idea of how said partner must be ingrained in her head. ]

Thanks, by the way. You didn't make me start bleeding again, so that's a plus.

[ that's... that's a way of giving kudos, right. ]

[originallutece]

I do know what I'm doing.

[She draws back, offering him a slight smile, and sits back. The bloody needle is set to the side; she'll clean that up later. For now, it's enough to wipe his blood absently off her fingers. Drops linger, but frankly, it's not as if blood bothers her.]

And no, no tragedy, to my great surprise. Robert went through the same process I did. He was torn apart, and then he was put back together. I awoke to him at my side, marveling at what we'd become.

A ghost . . . yes, I suppose that's a decent enough term for us. We're not about to disappear into any supposed afterlife, though. We're-- or we were, at any rate-- perfectly content in our state of being.

[She was, anyway. Robert had wanted a baby, and that meant becoming human again, and god, but she'd balked. Later, he'd assured her, later, once we're done seeing and doing all we want to, but think of it, Rosie . . .

And now here they are, human again, ostensibly caught for good in this world. Will he still want that when he wakes up? It's not a thought she's entirely opposed to, but it makes her stomach flip, it really does. But ah, that's a thought for later. She won't fret herself over it now. Silence reigns for a few seconds, and then she adds:]

He used to take, I was going to say. He used to take everything he wanted, which is why I believe Robert and I became a point of fixation for him, because he couldn't have us, no matter what he tried. We had each other, and frankly, even if we hadn't, I found the man loathsome from the start. So it became sixteen years of . . . [She pulls a face.] Oh, liberties. You must know the sort. Little touches and won't you allow me the pleasure of this dance and words that might be taken innocently, if you were stupid enough to believe it.

Comstock wasn't personal. I loathe the man for a variety of reasons, but he killed us because we were an obstacle, nothing more. But Fink . . . it was vindictive. It was something he took pleasure in, because if he couldn't fuck us, at least he could take something else from us.

[frombetrayal]

[i mean, yeah, absolutely let him starve, but she doesn't know he's that much of a dick yet]

Well, if you say so...

[Her voice trails off.]

In the event that you can't, I've met some people who are willing to cook for you if you bring them the ingredients they need. You may be able to hunt or forage for your meals without having to pay a penny, so long as you bring enough back for two.

[But can he hunt? Eh, he's an adult. He can figure it out probably.]

1/2

[likethelight]

[ It had already slowed from the loam dug up by its path, buffeted again before it can get its bearings by the explosion of brilliance. Angry, pained chattering as it writhes briefly and scrabbles with its claws at the ground.

Especially with the Exorcist who's still clinging with tenacity to its back—partially because with his strike he would... also seem to have briefly gotten himself stuck. It's not quite like Innocence cutting through dark matter and something feels briefly like it's sticking for a moment in how he'd scoured his claws across what appeared a chink in its armor plating. ]

Ch.. [ Gross.

Teeth gritting, he rips his claw-hand free then—flinging an arc of black blood through the air and a deep scouring wound left behind on the vileling's back, one that leaves it roaring then in what's not even pain so much as blind rage. He should probably get off then and get some distance, feeling the familiar blood spatter against his face, and does, jumping backwards and skidding briefly with an outstretched hand along the ground, but... ]

2/3

[likethelight]

[ But... ]

3/3

[likethelight]

[ There is for a moment just a searing, white-hot burn. It doesn't even hurt. For one agonizingly long fraction of a second.

And then there is, as he brushes an Innocence-gloved hand across his face in brief confusion, pain. Burning, turn yourself inside-out, molten pain. Can't see, can't feel, can't hear yourself think, the world is gone and the only thing still real is pain.

So much so that he's instantly dropped to his knees, clutching at his head with his human hand, dug his claws into the ground so hard it would almost hurt him if he was even aware, and completely blind to everything but that.

He's screaming like his heart's being pulled out his throat but he doesn't even realize it. ]