- Athleticism I (4/9):
- Climbing I (5/9)
- Featherlight I (5/9)
- Inversion (3/9)
- Gymnastics (5/9)
- Stealth II (2/9)
- Trackless Tracks I (8/9)
- Area Coverage (7/9)
- Alchemical Immunity: (2/9)
- Unnatural Concealment: (2/9)
- Eschiver I (7/9) (+3)
- Evasion I (4/9) (+1)
- Impending Sense (7/9)
- Lucky Break I (5/9)
- Chance Encounter (5/9)
- Courtly Dancing: Treachery I (5/9)
- Flexibility I (5/9)
- Persuasive Lies (7/9)
- Her Flesh: (1/9) [new]
- Always Form: (1/9) [new]
- Her Love: (1/9) [new]
- Tangible Hallucinations I: (1/9) [new]
Spells:
- [slot removed] [new]
- Guise of the Kitsune I (3/9)
- Malleable Form: (7/9)
- Passive Enervation: (4/9)
- Tithes to Above: (1/9) [new]
Gifts:
- Obsession (5/9)
- Closed (0/9)
- Closed (0/9)
“Told you,” Kate said.
“You could always go after them,” I offered, hoping that she would end up doing so.
She remained sitting.
“Yeah… but no, gotta pick your battles, and I’m in hot water as it is with our recent ‘ill-thought-out misadventure’”
And what hope would I have in intervening as a barmaid, considering that not even Sir Guardson had the authority to intervene.
This excuse left me feeling no better. Only worse.
I watched the back of the woman through the door, one of the boys with an arm slung over her shoulders, steering her.
***
***
I found no rest that night; my mind refused to sleep, no matter how tried.
A pillow burying my head? Failed.
A shot of pure ethanol, then another? I hardly felt it.
Counting sheep? In the thousands and still climbing.
It frustrated me that my attempts failed, as I absolutely needed the rest, both body and mind still weary from previous misadventures. I planned on making full use of the next day, which meant I needed that rest now. But the more I tried forcing it, the harder it became.
In short, it was maddening.
My thoughts spiralled. In my head, I pictured it once again. The woman being led out by a group of men, or boys I supposed. The woman’s eyes, glazed and dull. The boys’ eyes, lecherous and cruel.
Even though I knew it would be in vain, I tried sleeping once more, to clear my thoughts, to focus on the present moment.
This was made difficult by various discomforts.
My pillow stank of grease. I had changed the linens, but the scent lingered. Actually, not just my pillow, but the entire room had a stench. The open window helped alleviate the stench some, but my discomfort had only grown.
The entire day had been one of discomfort and disappointment.
From morning to dusk, just all of it had been terrible. The only bright spot had been when Kate had visited, and that had only been because her company was less uncomfortable than without, and not because it broke even.
Of course, as soon as Kate left, my coworkers saddled me with the brunt of the closing duties: I put up the tavern’s chairs and stools, swept, washed glassware, and all the while suffered an increasingly sore back, particularly near my lumbar.
My back was sore, and still was. Another discomfort hindering sleep.
The room stank. My mattress was hard and lumpy. The linens were coarse and rubbed the wrong way. The other two occupants continued to add more stink, and loudly at that.
One of the girls snored.
It was awful enough that I was considering alternatives. Such as camping out on a remote rooftop, or maybe a burrow beneath the trees of the gardens of the Estates. Were it not for the fact that such living arrangements were fraught with danger and inconvenience, I may have abandoned Ma’Ritz then and there.
My consciousness had just been drifting off when one of the girls let loose a cannon blast of flatulence. The sound had startled me back to full wakefulness.
My ears flicked at the sudden sound.
These roommates of mine were awful, absolute slobs. The scents of unwashed teenagers could not be called understated. Their sheets were dirty, and I suspected that they had chosen to shift bunks rather than clean them. They also made less than adequate use of the hygiene products.
My nose was already twitching at the deluge of–
Wait. In hindsight, it had been obvious.
My ears had flicked in response to a sound. My nose had twitched.
I suppressed a groan.
While my Guise might have been less than it had been before, at the very least, these bodily functions were hidden, even to myself. But why I had not realized it was happening? This left me anxious. Because if my Guise could fail without me realizing it had failed, then what guarantee could I have when stepping into a public space?
I lifted my hands before my face. The dark room was hardly an obstacle to my sight.
My hands and arms were covered with fine lilac fur. My fingers ended in claw-like talons which were short enough to not affect dexterity. My nose and mouth had at some point lengthened, and I really ought to have noticed when that had happened. If only this form felt less intuitive or less natural.
Now that I recognized this fact, I realized that the ache in my lumbar was from a pinched tail. I shifted slightly, allowing the tail out from beneath me.
Of course, I tried emplacing my Guise once more, but no. That invisible and ethereal muscle seemed to be dead from fatigue, exhausted, and shaky from hunger.
The same problem as when Kate and I had surfaced from the Under. I recalled that she had fed my Mark several Chargers, the glowing bits losing their charge and crumbling.
But not all was lost.
My Guise required additional energy to function; I could track the amount I fed it and the duration it lasted for, which would allow me to at least approximate when it would fail. It would take some experimentation, some assumptions, but expertise was not impossible.
However, knowing one possible solution to the problem of indeterminate disguises was the least of my current problems. And what a problem I now faced. Not insurmountable, but awkward, and demanding swift attention.
Because currently, while I had attempted to sleep, in a communal bunk-room with girls which despised me, my Guise had reverted. Fortunately none of the girls had realized this, or I was certain I would have heard of it. Had I kept spare Chargers on hand, I could have simply filled my Guise with that energy and restore myself to a presentable state.
Unfortunately, I had not a Cee on me or in this communal space.
My bunk-mates likely did, though, and part of me was tempted to rifle through the awful girls’ things and steal their Chargers. The girls would undoubtedly accuse me of thievery should I do this, making it a non-solution.
This left me with another solution, one that satisfied constraints, one that would take me back to my roots, and likely serve as a much needed break.
With this plan in mind, I slipped from my bed.
One of my sheets was nicked unintentionally by a clawed hand. The tear was minor though. Otherwise, my motion was silent.
I landed on the wooden floor with nary a sound and I crept towards the window.
My steps, silent and assured.
My profile, minimized in the darkness.
My breath, heard and felt by none.
And yet, one of my bunkmates stirred. Not the relative of Tiffany Digger, but the other girl, one whom I had not even bothered to learn the name of. This girl murmured in her sleep, coming near to the surface, where chances were high she would awaken completely.
Of course, my stealth was beyond what could be expected.
But a scenario kept running through my mind.
What if… ? What if rumors spread of a beastkin breaking and entering into a room of nobodies at Ma’Ritz? Word would get out, rumors would spread, it would be inevitable that someone would look into the matter.
I supposed I could silence the girls before it reached that point. But then it would be another matter altogether. Girls did not go missing from the third floor in this neighborhood. Not without questions being raised. And that was if I could follow through such a brutal act in the first place. Escalating to murder so soon would be wasteful and risky. Murder always raised attention, even if flawlessly executed.
While I remained unmoving, pondering what to do, the girl finished repositioning. I decided to wait a minute further before continuing. This would give the girl a chance to fall into a deeper slumber.
Unfortunately, the Digger girl chose that time to issue a formidable emission. Lengthy, sure to stink, and unfortunately, loud. The sudden sound drew the first girl up to a false wakefulness.
“Whozza’huh say no…” The first girl spoke as those largely asleep tended to do.
The noise caused Digger to stir as well. Or her own flatulence had awoken her. Either way, this posed something of a minor problem.
I needed to exit, and promptly.
But if I moved, likely I would draw the attention of the girl. If I stayed put, I might be spotted if the girls decided to rouse themselves further.
By instinct, I fell back on Illusion, pulling at what should have been a familiar mental muscle. In that instant, I had forgotten that the Spell had changed, been removed, and new Talent had taken its place, with the changes being similar, at least with the mental control aspect of it.
Now, when I went to create an illusion, instead of a straight forward visualization to cast, the mental-lever twisted and warped to a new position, some external point of reference that I failed to understand.
It felt hesitant.
I pushed through the resistance.
My arm ached, but not in a good way. Instead, it was joint pain and muscle weakness.
But an illusion would solve my problem, and so an illusion I would have.
I pushed harder, devoting more of my internal reserves to casting this illusion, using this Talent.
Finally, it snapped into place. It felt different, but it worked. I could instinctively feel that I had disappeared from sight. A blurry form of chameleon layered over me.
At this point, Digger roused. She seemed to think that the other girl had been the one to wake the other up.
“What’s that racket for–?” Digger began to speak.
The girl would look up and see nothing striding across the room, or perhaps a blurry shadow, but nothing that would draw attention.I felt the Talent draining me, the ache had crawled up my right arm, now reaching my shoulder.
The window was already open. I had ensured that it was when I had entered the room earlier that night. It was the only measure I could take to combat the stink.
The first girl had sat up and was rubbing her eyes.
My Talent drained more from me, taking more at an accelerated pace, linked to the girl’s wakefulness.
I decided not to tarry.
With silent motion, with featherlight steps, with Stealth and Trackless Tracks, I dove through the open window and into the night. While I did so, I listened to the room, and I heard nothing from the room, no shrieks or outbursts.
The freefall lasted not even a second before I reached out and caught myself with my left arm, easily sticking to the wall and sliding down another yard, coming to a stop while hanging from the vertical surface.
The Talent ended, the throbbing drain had reached my ribs, but was quickly receding back towards my shoulder and arm.
I had successfully exited the room, and could now implement the next step of my plan, but I encountered another issue, and one that I needed to address.
It was this: that while in the Under, my Marks had changed.
These were some of my most powerful tools in my kit, and a competent thief needed to know her tools, otherwise they would be a liability. I had hoped to let things settle before testing the changed Glyphs and Sigils, but it seemed my base necessities had driven me to action. It came sooner than ideal, but I needed to gain familiarity with my new Talents.
A good thief would never do a job with untested tools, but I was in a rush. I would need to acquire additional Chargers within the hour if I intended to sleep at all tonight. And I certainly intended to get some form of rest. The ability to do so safely was one of the reasons I remained at Ma’Ritz. Well, that and the baths and almost free food.
If I was less confident in my own personal skills and abilities, I would have found a hole to scurry into until I could gain the necessary familiarity with my new Talents. But… I was confident. Not arrogant, no. I had the skill and the experience to back it all up, and truly, the necessary acts would not be so difficult. Some might say it would be easy!
This was an affluent neighborhood, ripe with targets, dripping with wealth.
It would be a simple affair.
Not only would it be easy, but it would be beneficial in other ways as well! It would be a return to my roots. It… would be a chance to unwind, and perhaps learn more of the changes that had occurred to my Marks.
Yes. It was all training. This was not a real job. That was enough to satisfy my concerns, at least for now. Although I still needed to at least consider these new Talents before I began, and I knew just the place to do so.
I sprinted up the side of the wall to the rooftop to my favorite spot to brood.
Of course, I was not going there to brood, not tonight. No, I needed to examine these Talents and consider their use. Unfortunately, I could hardly consider the Talents without experiencing distressing thoughts and feelings. Even considering just the new Sigils, and the things they seemed to represent, or how my Marks had been changed without…
I groaned silently.
It was these thoughts I had been hoping to avoid.
How had my Marks changed?! Just, how?
It was not the sort of thing that ought to be able to happen. And Kate had been tightlipped about the whole affair. She had also demanded that I never speak a word of it to anyone, and I was absolutely to avoid referring to the place as a shrine.
These locals and their bizarre antagonism to religion… Although, if these outside entities masquerading as divine elements were the ones responsible for dropping me on this world and for changing the fabric of my existence without my consent, then perhaps I could understand the locals and their antagonism.
I put thoughts of the possible divine aside.
Or tried to.
But it had been this entity that had altered my body, that had warped my Marks, my tools.
This was done without my input.
I had not chosen this… or wanted it.
I grit my teeth and tried ignoring the sense of powerlessness. Afterall, I should not be unused to the sensation at this point. I wanted to pull my hair and scream to the void at the injustice and violation of it all.
Even the Sigils themselves, on their own, what they said, what I interpreted them as… their meaning discomfited me greatly.
Her Love.
Her Flesh.
These were what the Sigils read to me; this was what my revised Marks showed.
One Mark removed, the one that had bound me to a Myst Egg in Emboru’s possession. Nothing was left where it had been, save for unblemished flesh or fur, depending.
Marks were not supposed to just up and disappear. They were meant to be permanent.
However, the Myst Egg was no longer bound, at least not to me. It would have been a boon, to. Almost no one was lucky to receive such a beast. Although, of those who could afford bound beasts, almost none of them did pursue such bindings. Because the bindings went both ways, and the powerful shakers of the world were loath to share.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Another Sigil had been deleted, this one part of a greater Mark. It had been for a Spell, Illusion. It had been a great asset. A flexible tool for many occasions. One I had been using since I landed in this rotten world. But now, gone. Its absence felt bitter.
From the deity’s point of view, the new Sigils were likely intended to make up for the removed Sigils and Marks. However…
Her Love.
Her Flesh.
They came across as branded flesh, marks of ownership, as though I were cattle to be ranched, driven, and eventually slaughtered. This angered me, it really, truly, did. But it was all impotent rage. Useless. Vanity. Hubris… folly.
I was what I was and I had what I had. Nothing more.
My understanding of what I had could be considered suspect. The language of Sigils was inexact at best, because the alphabet varied person to person, and that was before the Sacred Artist’s techniques were taken into account.
My interpretation was likely wrong. I was reading too much into too little. What really had changed?
Her Love: Tanbible Hallucinations.
This was what I had used instead of an Illusion. It was a Talent, and a twisted one when compared to a simple bending of light. It felt wrong, in comparison.
Her Flesh: Always Formed.
This one gave such mixed feelings. The way it implied my flesh was not mine, but this other entity, it bothered me, of course it bothered me! But at the same time, this change had granted me my left arm, and a real one this time, not some parasite traitor.
I repressed those emotions, squashed them.
If I could, I would rip them out, sever them, and cast them aside if I could.
What I needed to do was focus on the task before me.
Yes, that.
Securing Cee. Robbing the rich. Feeding myself. Recloaking under my Guise.
Immediate tangible goals, things I could influence. Even though My kit had changed, it was enough… I was enough.
So what if my Illusions were called something else, the alterations were beneficial anyways. Before, using a tangible illusion would quickly drain my Spirit. But now, there was less of a drain, and more of a governor throttling how large the Hallucinations could grow.
Restoring my mood took longer than I cared to admit. The brisk air served me well. It allowed me distance. It had let things settle, if just somewhat.
I stood and stretched, limbered, breathed deep then exhaled explosively, blowing away the filth from within me.
My first order of business: travel.
I began jumping from roof to roof, leaping great distances, crossing streets, landing on vertical or horizontal surfaces, continuing on. I ran across roofs, up walls, down turrets and decorative towers.
I was moving, focused on my next step, the next hurdle, the cool air whipping past. It grounded me, ironically, as I was as far from the ground as I could get.
Another street passed underneath.
I hit a stone wall, ran upwards, feet and hands sticking without issue, then cleared the edge with a frontflip before landing on the slate tiles and sprinting across the building to do it all again.
But the environment changed.
I heard the sound of clattering armor just in time.
I slid to a stop on the roof. My ears flicked towards the sound of footsteps and an occasional voice. It was fortunate that sabatons on cobblestone were as loud as they were, otherwise I might have missed it.
Inversion (4/9) (+1)
I crept to the side of the building, relying on Stealth once more. From the shadow of a window-box, I hung off the side of the building and watched.
Between my Talents and my talent, I had no doubts I could and would avoid attention when they passed below.
It was a group of knights. They marched down the street, without haste and with diligence. They scanned their environs as they went. Their garrison was not one I recognized, and I wondered if they were new to the city, perhaps brought in by the royal princess. It would be unusual as Princess Marissa was in the city as a guest of the baron, and the baron already had a policing force in the peacekeepers.
This group was a curiosity, but ultimately not one that was my concern.
After they were well away, I continued onward.
I crossed the street in a bounding leap and went on for another block further.
Straight ahead the hill began descending into less affluent neighborhoods. I decided I had gone far enough from Ma’Ritz, and I turned directions, beginning to follow the street, skirting along the same elevation. I was traveling laterally and following a lesser boulevard.
As I went, I was looking over the homes, duplexes, and flats. I ignored the shops along street-level. Perhaps another time, when I felt like visiting Laverna’s to offload a haul.
Not much later, I had found a promising target. It was a two-story duplex, four homes pressed together horizontally, with a shared garden space separating the homes from the road. One of these homes had cleaner stairs and flowers hanging from window-planters. Their door was painted with a floral pattern, one reminiscent of rhododendrons. A wave of something unpleasant tried crawling from the recesses of my mind, but it had been buried too far and too deep for it to reach me.
This would be my first stop of the night.
From their rooftop I descended, crawling vertically without issue, pads of hand and foot sticking to the brickwork. I reached the first window from above and I peaked in. The curtains were drawn. The size of the window implied importance, and the curtains appeared thick enough to block most light. Faintly, from within, I heard breathing. A bedroom, then. It would not be my first choice to gain entry.
I went left, skirting along the shadows of the eaves. Here, there was a thin set of windows; a brief glance revealed a washroom and toilet. I would not be using this one unless I had to.
I passed back over to the right, to the far side of the bedroom. Peaking in, I found blinds left undrawn, granting a clear view of the room’s contents. There was a bookshelf and a desk. Either an office or a reading room.
I began the process of breaching, first examining the window. It was locked, but not by anything more complex than a latch. To get in, I had options. Quietly breaking a pane of glass and unlocking the window would be trivial, but also sloppy. Cutting along the seam to gain access to the lock was also an option, although tedious.
I was interested in a third solution: Illusion. Or rather, Hallucination, I suppose. If it still worked the way I needed it to.
In the past, I could have summoned a tangible Illusion to unlock the window from inside. But with my new Talent? It would be more difficult. And I was unsure of the nature of the tangibility. It was worth a try, I decided.
And so I pressed at that mental muscle where Illusion once sat, then twisted. It left my stomach churning, and my arm began trembling, but after a moment of increasing strain, it popped into place.
It appeared Mostly as expected.
On the other side of the glass, a detached, grisled and gaunt hand appeared, floating mid air. The hand was the hallucination. Which meant I could control it.
I had to visualize where I wanted it to go, how I wanted it to go, and I even pantomimed with my actual hands. While doing this, I had to exert a twisty-bendy mental command, and it was not intuitive, not yet. However, the hand moved, although it did so in a nightmarish fashion, responding to my will with sharp jerks, flashing between two positions instantaneously and only mostly where I wanted it to go.
Altogether, the hallucination was sufficient.
The hand reached the lever and unlocked the window. From there, I had it push against the window, although it made a noticeable thunk when it struck the glass a bit more forcefully than I had intended. The sound could not have been loud enough to be heard in the bedroom, so I deemed the target to remain suitable. I had the hallucination push the window upwards until I slipped my own fingers in and finished opening the window.
During this, I felt not only the arthritic exhaustion, but I also felt the burning itch of growth, as a Sigil darkened and lengthened just a bit more.
Tangible Hallucinations I: (2/9) (+1)
With the window opened, I rolled inward, somersaulting to land on my feet, light as a feather and just as silent. I closed the window behind me and began surveying the room.
The first thing I checked was the bookshelves. Books in this world were valuable, but also heavy and difficult to fence. I was here looking for loose Cee, so the books were ignored. From the shelves, the only thing of promise was a small lockbox openly on display. It was made of thick material, and the lock itself was light.
Seven seconds later, I had the lockbox open.
Inside, there were documents, appearing to be legal papers, along with a will. These could have been valuable to Belobog, but not to me. I left the documents and shut the box, relocking it as well, as the mechanism was so lax.
Next, I went to the desk, checking the drawers for Cee.
The first drawer had pens and small stone figurines, as well as a dirk that might have functioned as a letter opener but was clearly a weapon first. The dirk seemed better than my current knife. While not my mission objective, it was nice. I slid the dirk into my belt and kept looking.
It was not until I checked the bottom drawer that I found something useful. It was at the very back. A small pouch collecting dust. I grabbed the pouch and checked the contents. As soon as I opened it, there was a multicolored glow, if dim.
I exulted. This was what I had been after. Even if several of the coins had dimmed, there were still some remaining lit. These I could use.
But was there more that I could take? I glanced over the office once more.
The rest of the home likely had more Cee, perhaps in the bedroom on a nightstand, or possibly in the kitchen on a counter–people stowed their day’s bags in all sorts of places, and it was these bags that would likely contain Cee.
As I waffled, a light appeared under the door.
The source was dim and distant, from somewhere else along the hallway. But compared to the dark room, it practically flared into existence. This was accompanied by the sound of a door opening on well greased hinges. Footsteps then echoed and vibrated the floor, though the sound and vibration was light. I judged the source to be a moderately weighted man, likely taller than thick.
I withdrew from the desk. The drawers remained open; they were hidden from the door anyways, and I hoped to avoid alerting whatever occupant was passing by.
And passing by this person was. I hoped.
I dared not risk it.
The window beckoned, but I had closed it after entering. If closing the desk would be too noisy, then sliding the window along its track would be thunderous.
The light under the door brightened.
I could attack this person. But that would further incentivise the justice system to intervene. Assuming I came out unscathed.
A thought then occurred. If a witness reported my likeness to the knights, then it was likely that Kate would learn of it, and she would likely suspect me. And while I doubted she would care much for these homeowners or any laws I might break, she might decide I am needlessly endangering myself. Given her forceful personality, this might lead to unpleasantness.
That added additional incentive to remain unseen.
When the footsteps reached the office door, I prepared an illusion to hide me, just in case. But as I reached for this spell within myself, it felt as though this mechanism were missing. If previously, Illusions were accompanied with a phantom limb, that limb had disappeared, as though it never existed to begin with.
Just earlier this night, I had cast an Illusion, or rather, a Tangible Hallucination.
Now though, nothing.
Was I out of energy, or was something else at play? A piece of my kit, one of my greatest tools, was not behaving as expected. This bode poorly; I needed mastery of all my tools if I were to rely upon them.
The footsteps continued onward without me noticing it, as I had allowed myself to grow distracted by the lack of the illusion.
I castigated myself for this, but I also felt relief that nothing worse had come of it.
The risk profile of this home had increased, and as I already had gotten the bare minimum of what I needed to break even, energy wise, I decided to depart. I left the way I had entered, closing the window once more from the other side, as a draft could alert the owners that they had been robbed.
While I moved, I considered the vexation: My illusions worked sometimes, but not always. This problem required testing, but perhaps not at the moment. I was still moving rooftop to rooftop, putting distance between the duplex and myself.
Several blocks later, I perched along the side of an ornamental spire, on the opposite side of the streetlight. The shadow of the building and spire hid me from the street, and that was only if someone bothered looking up.
With my position secure, I pulled open the pouch and the glowing Cee. There were only a few of these, perhaps enough for a person to enjoy themselves for an evening. Instead of such frippery, I spent the Cee against my Mark, pressing the bits of glowing stone to my skin, to the Sigil labeled Tithes.
The Sigil reacted, warming as the light drained from the Cee.
Tithes to Above: (2/9) (+1)
The gem inserts centered in these Chargers crumbled. This made the coins worthless. At least the dullard coins could be traded in or recharged. But the Cee that lost the gems were scrap at best.
Now that this SIgil had fed, I tested my Guise once again. There was still some resistance when I attempted using it, although I thought I could push through if I needed to. How long it would last if I did force it? Likely not long enough.
Additional Cee would be required, it seemed.
This meant I needed another target. It was suboptimal, especially with a Talent that only sometimes worked. But I asked myself, could I succeed without using the Talent at all? And the answer was yes, of course I could.
Even before magic, I had been an excellent thief, and I had only improved since.
Coming to this conclusion, I began searching for my next candidate, although I still put a block between where I had brooded and where I would rob.
I found a promising flat, more of a studio apartment, located three stories up. I used another hallucination to open the window, noting that the hallucination came easily. I entered, found a purse, extracted Cee, left the purse, and exited back through the window. It had been trivial. I used the Cee, fed the Sigil further, and continued on to hit several other homes.
No complications occurred. By the time I had hit five homes, my Tithe Sigil felt content. It would take more if I offered, but it had otherwise received enough. Intuitively I knew my Guise was ready once more to be donned.
As my original requirement was fulfilled, I could have returned to Ma’Ritz, and I probably should have. But I could do more. And I was already out and about.
When would be the next time I went out like this?
When was the last time I felt joy and exhilaration and satisfaction in the act of applying my skills, honing them, and gaining riches while at it? It may have been greedy, but it was addictive and intoxicating in its own way. I never knew what a home would contain, and I always came away with something.
Staying out all night was still not an option though. I would only hit another home, I decided. I still needed to sleep.
After the next home, I told myself the same thing. And for the one after that as well. It was then I decided I really must quit for the night, as continuing onward would lead to complications, and I was finally feeling sleepy.
I turned back towards Ma’Ritz and began making my way there, climbing the hill once more.
Of course, as I made my way back I was still looking for potential targets, for the next time I came out. It was because of this vigilance that I noticed a curiosity.
One of the main bedroom windows of another duplex. It was shuttered. Most homes in the area lacked shutters altogether, and if shutters were present, they were strictly ornamental. Most of these flats, duplexes, ornamental businesses, and manors, all of them used glass panes. This curiosity of a duplex also had glass windows. But one of these windows had been shuttered. It was an upper story window, so it was hardly at risk of vandalism, not that the neighborhood suffered from that.
Naturally, I investigated.
I checked the shutters, looking for a mechanism to open them. There was none. The shutters had been nailed and bolted in place. In fact, after further examination, I noticed they were lacking hinges altogether. The window was covered by what was essentially a plank of wood. In this neighborhood, it was unusual. It deviated significantly from the norm.
The seal between the wooden shutters and the stonework was sloppy, lacking any sort of caulking to account for the irregular stone surface. This meant that some fractions of an inch existed from which I could peer through. Of course, this view was poor due to the angle and the narrowness of the gap. I saw enough to know there was in fact a glass window beneath the shutters. There also seemed to be a grill or geometric lattice work covering the inside portion of it.
I could not help but wonder what was so important that the residents bolted the shutters closed.
As I crawled about the exterior of this duplex, I heard one of the inhabitants awake and moving around. It was a man, and he was humming a very poor rendition of a tavern song.
The fact that someone was up and moving meant that any burglary would be risky–riskier than it ordinarily would be. But this risk was outweighed by my curiosity. A window was not locked and sealed unless something was worthwhile inside the room. Of course, there was a chance that the inhabitants' sense of worthwhileness differed from my own.
Besides that, I was good at this, and maybe I appreciated the increased difficulty. It would be a fine way to top the night, and afterwards I could retire to bed.
Deciding to test my skills and resolve my curiosity, I made my way to the next window over and broke in. This window was cramped, tall and narrow. It was also left unlocked, although I did need to unlatch it from the inside.
Similar to before, I summoned a hallucinatory hand on the other side of the glass to release the latch and push the window open. The window was narrow enough that I had to twist sideways and squeeze, exhaling completely to fit my ribs through.
But fit through I did and then I was in.
I found myself in a small and cramped room, befitting of the sole narrow window. I could not be certain if the space was meant to be a small study or a nursery, but the occupants had instead chosen to use it as a cross between a laundry hamper and a garbage bin. Clothes and soiled rags littered the floor, alongside miscellaneous bits of scrap.
Flies kicked up as I stepped through.
The room felt wrong.
I could not put my finger on why, but beyond the medley stink, the piles of molding clothes, or the empty sometimes-broken bottles, something was causing my hackles to raise. The hair along my nape and back physically raised.
My tail felt as though the flesh were goose-pimpling, and a cursory glance showed it had poofed up. These were all animalistic threat displays. Embarrassment aside, I wondered why I felt threatened, why the room felt off. Without an immediate answer, I had to put that aside for later consideration.
The man was still humming to himself, somewhere near the kitchen, although he had begun moving through the home. A door opened then shut. There was a groaned breath. Then the sound of a stream of fluid hitting metal. The man was using the toilet.
This was a chance to discover what this home hid.
With a silent deftness and surety I crossed the filthy room and opened the door to the hallway. The only source of light came from the other end, where a lantern was lit, near where the man was.
The curious room with the sealed window was in the opposite direction from where the man was urinating. This was why it was an opportunity. I knew where he was, and I would know when he was coming out. The risk felt light.
I darted down the hallway, footsteps making nary a sound, barely depressing the carpet and leaving no signs of passing.
I came to the door that hid the curious room with the shuttered windows.
I reached for the handle.
My hackles raised and my lips pulled back.
Why… ? That was when I saw the lock. I recoiled and hissed through my teeth. An actual sound passed my muzzle, although it came as faint.
I would have stayed longer, but the man had finished his business and was making his way towards the very same hallway I was currently in.
Given the limited cover within the hallway, I needed to find a room or an alternative solution. The nearest room, the only one within reach, was the one that I had recoiled from, one that I had no interest in opening. And there was an excellent reason for me to avoid this room. I was no longer interested in seeing what lay behind the door, and I regretted discovering this home’s secrets.
Because the room had a lock facing the wrong way. It was a deadbolt, with the lever facing the hallway.
The moment I had seen this horrid deadbolt, a surge of painful almost-memories almost-surfaced. These were things I had forgotten, that remained forgotten, but that had echoed strongly enough that I still felt the reverberations to this day, especially when I come across something so horrible and awful as this.
At this point, the man entered the hallway and turned my way.
I felt that phantom sensation normally reserved for hallucinations click into place. It twisted into place and a hallucination formed, obscuring and cloaking my position in almost-invisibility.
The man came my way and I pressed against the wall to ensure we did not collide. During this, I wondered why my hallucination worked when I needed it, but not the first home I had visited.
I recalled the Sigils.
Tangible Hallucination.
These were not Tangible Illusions, despite their similarity. Hallucinations were not a refactoring of light and sound. They only existed in the eyes of the recipient. But, if that was the case, then how had I been using the Talent to unlock windows?
The man had been coming my way during all this time. The man was walking drunkenly, his gait unsteady, his ambling swaying from left to right as he walked. He was still humming the same song. From this close, I determined that the song’s rendition was poor.
I could stab him, I supposed. I had that dirk in my belt, and it would do the job nicely. The man seemed unenhanced, and if he had any Marks, they likely did nothing for his constitution.
He reached the door with the deadbolt facing the wrong way. He reached for the mechanism, his hands fumbling in their approach and execution, but the deadbolt slid unlocked all the same.
A dirk to the back of his neck would be instant.
The door pushed open, into the room. The man began stepping in and he stopped humming. Instead, he began to speak. A wave of revulsion swept through me so strongly that I thought I might breakdown and vomit then and there and I needed to leave before–
“Darling~” the man said, his words slurring and carrying a sickening affection.
Unnatural Concealment: (3/9) (+1)
I ran back the way I had come, my steps remaining light, always like a feather, never causing a disturbance. Back through the filthy room, the one full of garments in all sizes, the only commonality being that the garments were for women. Out the window I fled, feeling dirty and horrible and unclean and all the worst things unimaginable.
There would be no more discoveries tonight. I needed rest. Yes, that. I should have already been back in bed at Ma’Ritz.
I ran, rooftop to rooftop, the night’s air no longer exhilarating.
That home, that room, I could not forget it, no matter how I wished I could. There had been nothing I could have done, and I kept telling myself that, over and over, all the while remembering that horrid place’s address, and wondering when Belobog would be available, and if I could entice Bee or Ay to get a little hands on.
Still though, the guilt.
And the awful, awful almost-memories that I could only almost-remember even though I desired to be free of them altogether.
A memory that I did remember, one I would carry with me for quite some time, was of when I was fleeing down the hallway. For just after that horrid man had spoken, I had heard a silent, shuddering sob.
The night air was insufficient, no matter how fast it swept.
There was nothing I could have done.
I kept telling myself that.
It never helped.
Talents:
- Athleticism I (4/9):
- Climbing I (5/9)
- Featherlight I (5/9)
- Inversion (4/9) (+1)
- Gymnastics (5/9)
- Stealth II (2/9)
- Trackless Tracks I (8/9)
- Area Coverage (7/9)
- Alchemical Immunity: (2/9)
- Unnatural Concealment: (3/9) (+1)
- Eschiver I (7/9)
- Evasion I (4/9)
- Impending Sense (7/9)
- Lucky Break I (5/9)
- Chance Encounter (5/9)
- Courtly Dancing: Treachery I (5/9)
- Flexibility I (5/9)
- Persuasive Lies (7/9)
- Her Flesh: (1/9) [new]
- Always Form: (1/9) [new]
- Her Love: (1/9) [new]
- Tangible Hallucinations I: (2/9) [new] (+1)
Spells:
- [slot removed] [new]
- Guise of the Kitsune I (3/9)
- Malleable Form: (7/9)
- Passive Enervation: (4/9)
- Tithes to Above: (2/9) [new] (+1)
Gifts:
- Obsession (5/9)
- Closed (0/9)
- Closed (0/9)