[ For as annoying as he is, at least he has the good grace to shut up and pull himself together when shutting up and pulling together is due. As he leaves her to her work, she'll leave him to his roaming. Let him at least ground himself however he needs to. The conversation outside, meanwhile, seems to have turned interesting, the topic of their trinkets veering toward the illicit. ]
[ Toward the sorts of things, from the sound of things, that creep serendipitously into the Slugmarket after favors have been paid. There really were no regulations on the terms of talismans in the lawless Downside—they were all hard enough to come by and even harder to make in recent years—but from the sound of their clandestine discussion, this is something one of the guards has obtained through venues warranting a closed door. Or at the very least, was special enough to be obtained through mysterious venues. ]
[ She hears Richie, and gestures him to hold for the third time, but before the guard can name names or place places, there's another shuffle, a sliding of drawers and boots stepping in double-time, as if their owners felt suddenly late for something. Difficult to discern, with approximately zero sense of spatial context, but plain as day to her: they're leaving. Perking up sharp and focused, her feet move reflexively toward the sound, across the field as if her placement within this tiny space would do her any good. ]
... Damn, [ she finally hisses, as their voices fade and their thoughts slip through her grasp, into the hall, which feels a great deal more crowded than it had upon their entry. A changing of the guard, perhaps? A summoning of sorts? In any case, shifts have switched, and lingering in hiding for the moment seems to be the best bet, here. And besides, this has been rather... enlightening. Just how long she can host a soul on the court without getting down to business. ]
They mean everything. It is not for my own amusement that I am able to draw people in to the Crystal, I told you, it has but one purpose... Had, rather. And that was to school the Scribes' triumvirate in the ways of the Rites. [ If I never got to those in passing in her TDM dump, she would have at least said the word. ] The sigils are those of such opposing triumvirates, and are to bear their Pyres. If you would call this place a field, then consider them goals, of a sort.
[ tldr: you're not crazy, Rich. This is definitely some mystical sports arena. ]
no subject
[ Toward the sorts of things, from the sound of things, that creep serendipitously into the Slugmarket after favors have been paid. There really were no regulations on the terms of talismans in the lawless Downside—they were all hard enough to come by and even harder to make in recent years—but from the sound of their clandestine discussion, this is something one of the guards has obtained through venues warranting a closed door. Or at the very least, was special enough to be obtained through mysterious venues. ]
[ She hears Richie, and gestures him to hold for the third time, but before the guard can name names or place places, there's another shuffle, a sliding of drawers and boots stepping in double-time, as if their owners felt suddenly late for something. Difficult to discern, with approximately zero sense of spatial context, but plain as day to her: they're leaving. Perking up sharp and focused, her feet move reflexively toward the sound, across the field as if her placement within this tiny space would do her any good. ]
... Damn, [ she finally hisses, as their voices fade and their thoughts slip through her grasp, into the hall, which feels a great deal more crowded than it had upon their entry. A changing of the guard, perhaps? A summoning of sorts? In any case, shifts have switched, and lingering in hiding for the moment seems to be the best bet, here. And besides, this has been rather... enlightening. Just how long she can host a soul on the court without getting down to business. ]
They mean everything. It is not for my own amusement that I am able to draw people in to the Crystal, I told you, it has but one purpose... Had, rather. And that was to school the Scribes' triumvirate in the ways of the Rites. [ If I never got to those in passing in her TDM dump, she would have at least said the word. ] The sigils are those of such opposing triumvirates, and are to bear their Pyres. If you would call this place a field, then consider them goals, of a sort.
[ tldr: you're not crazy, Rich. This is definitely some mystical sports arena. ]