Samsara (Closed) (M)

[Valtxr]

(((That's fine with me. I'll post separately for Cass and Sharon/Jorge/Charles. That should help to get Aven caught up.)))

  Cass' shook her head rapidly. Blinked her non-swollen eye just as fast. "No. No, no, no. You're one of them. You're one of them, aren't you? That's why you're here. Here as soon as I talked. Knew I broke my promise. Here to punish me. I-I-I told you I'm sorry. I did the b-best I could. It's—it's not my fault! The m-men that were supposed to guard me. Dead. All dead. Nothing I could do. Nothing I could do. Nothing I could do. Nothing I could do..."

[Gawfy]

Gabe followed Sharon and jorge to the man's office and couldn't help but feel pity for sharon, She was infact the only person who was able to get info out of the girl, yet the only one who didn't get paid. He shook his head in an attempt to focus on the matter at hand As he grabbed his Sack of coin from the table and put it on the floor next to him. He  then had to hold back a chuckle as Earnhardt made a comment about all of them getting this guy out, as if this pompous asshole would help.
I imagine we are meeting him somewhere, when and where are we gonna be picking him up?   He asked as he kicked his legs up onto the table.

[Wycliff]

Aven shakes his head, leaning forward and hugging her to his chest, caressing the back of her head. "You did what you could, Miss Cass, it's okay. No one is going to hurt you; I don't know who you think I am, but I am simply Aven Alveron, a Lieutenant of Ansgar's Hand. Whoever this 'Samsara' is, I am not affiliated with him or her." He pulls back, hoping his words had gotten through to her, his gentle smile telling no lies. "If I'm going to protect you from whoever that is, though, I need to know what I'm up against, don't I?"


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Valtxr]

  Jorge waited to pick up his own payment.
  Earnhardt's bottom lip curled down in disgust as he observed Gabe's table mannerisms, but he made no comment about it. "Yes, 'meeting him.' I suppose that is one way you could phrase it, if you happened to be fond of making understatements."
  He glanced at Charles, then at the rest of the group. "This operation will not be like either of yesterday's loud and bloody affairs. And nor can we afford for it to be. The intelligence provided by the defector will be worthless if Mr. Deegan catches wind of what we're onto and empties out his treasury before we have a chance to seize it. To that end, this operation must be done solely via infiltration."
  "You guys know what that means," Charles said, a hint of concern hiding behind his words.
  Jorge nodded. "No weapons, no bodies. Quiet-like."
  "How are we getting in?" Sharon asked Earnhardt.
  Earnhardt stared at her for a moment. Then exposed his pure white teeth in a wicked grin. "I'm so glad you asked, Ms. Gordon. Here's a quick summary: Our defector's name is Devon McMurray. He was last seen entering a certain textile mill in the Niraya neighborhood. We know that this mill is a front owned by Mr. Deegan, and that various drug refinements take place underneath it: illegal enchantments, alchemical enrichments, all of the more...volatile procedures, shall we say. McMurray does not work in these refinement processes, and thus has no real reason to be there that I'm aware of, so I fear he may have been discovered and that our time is short. Fortunately, a plan is ready to go. The local boss of this textile mill, one 'Jessos Rains', has certain...predilections that we can take advantage of. For instance, she is quite fond of ordering expensive working girls to the mill for her own pleasure and amusement. And this, Ms. Gordon, is where you come in."
  Charles' eyes trailed away. He couldn't bear to look at her.
  Sharon's expression dropped into one of barely masked disbelief.
  Earnhardt inhaled sharply through his nose. "Yes. You, Ms. Gordon. While it will take some precious time to pretty-up a gutter girl like you into a passable high-class whore, I hope that, at the very least, you shouldn't find spreading your legs to be that difficult of a task." He smirked for a second. "The plan is elegant in its simplicity. You keep Rains preoccupied, and your 'handler' and 'muscle'—I'll let you all work out who plays what part among yourselves—look for an opportunity. They silently extricate McMurray when one arises, go back into the mill and wait for Rains to finish, and then all of you leave together. And everyone at the mill is none the wiser. Understood?"

* * * * *

  Cass quieted down some when Aven held her. Mumbled some half-words into his chest. Her body hitched harshly when he stroked her hair. Hitched a few more times, but calmed as he talked.
  She looked up at him with her one good eye when he pulled back. Her voice a low whisper. "You can't...can't protect me...or anyone." A new drop of blood rolled down the edge of her lip. Her chin. A thin trail of red in its wake. "They...they said...we're all trapped inside it...everyone...inside Samsara. It has no beginning or end. It just goes on...and on...and on..." Her faced twisted with a horrific sorrow. "Forever..."

(((Posted Cass here for simplicity's sake)))

[Wycliff]

Aven's expression stayed the same, but his mind flashed back to the mining town in Matron's Hollow, fighting against that corrupted mountain spirit, his inability to cleanse the townsfolk of thier demonic corruption... his murder of every last one. It flashed again to a fortress in the Kilanthro Mountains: a scene of devastation and carnage overlooked by a demoness and her master, a single cloaked figure holding a glowing card. Caster...
"Maybe I cannot do everything, but you'd be surprised what I'm capable of. I am no ordinary Mage, I can assure you." He sits down, crosslegged. "Who or what is this Samsara?"


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Valtxr]

  Cass glanced all around her. Looking at everything and nothing. Then back to Aven. But her gaze wasn't centered on his eyes. Askew, to Aven's left, as if she were looking past him. Past the sky itself.
  She shivered. Wrapped her arms around her body. "Th-They said...Samsara...is everything. The world. W-what's beyond it. All that ever was and ever will be. The endless cycle of s-suffering. And that even if you die..." She gasped. Closed her eye. Her breathing strained. "...you'll come right back...over and over...to suffer again. They told me...and I just wanted to be free from it...just wanted to be free...just wanted...is that...is that so much to ask?"

[Wycliff]

Aven endeavors to understand, his mind flitting through the vast array of knowledge in his head. "Are you speaking of a cycle of rebirth? You wish to be free of it?" He sighs, the thought hitting a bit too close to home. If such a thing did exist, he himself was already free of it, as a dark matter being: it was not, however, something he'd wished for. "There is a way to do so, but it is not painless, Miss Cass, nor without it's dangers."
Even should she ask him, he would not have the nerve to attempt such a thing on a living being. He'd seen the results of failure firsthand.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Valtxr]

  Cass shrieked when Aven said '...it is not painless...'
  She rolled over onto her side, squeezing herself harder than before. A quivering heap on the rooftop.
  "I don't wanna come back...it gets worse...it always gets worse...always gets worse...always gets worse..."

[Gawfy]

Gabe raised his hand into the air as he waited for Earnhardt to look in his direction. Question. Why dont we just fuck up some chemicals or ingredients to blow the place to hell when we sneak in? Im sure Deegan would just write it off as an accident and it would take time to sift through to find bodies, not to mention it would hurt Deegans finances and waste his time when the government officials start asking questions.

[Wycliff]

Aven sighed. The elf was obviously traumatized by her experiences with whatever that "Samsara" was, but somehow, he doubted it was linked to Mr. Winters. Whoever that Deegan fellow was, he had his hand in some truly nasty business.
"Miss Cass, please bear with me. Who told you about this "Samsara" you keep referring to? Forgive me, but even as a mage, unless your soul has been bound by an extremely powerful ritual, repeated reincarnation while retaining memories is nearly impossible. Only gods possess that level of power, and even they cannot easily grant it to a mortal." He raises an eyebrow. "If you truly want help, you're going to need to give me details. Brooding over it will do you no good."


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Valtxr]

  Earnhardt shot Charles an exasperated look as soon as Gabe finished asking his question. "Where do you find these people, Charles? First Sharon, and now this? Has every competent candidate in Reajh died or something?"
  Charles raised his hands defensively, trying to temper the ire of his superior. He looked to Gabe. "That's not an option. Destroying the mill would hurt Deegan's operation, yes, but he'd be able to recover. If we hit the treasury, his finances aren't just hurt—they're gone. So we do it this way."
  Jorge shrugged. "I don't know, boss. Blowin' some shit up sounds like a fun afternoon to me."
  Charles closed his eyes and sighed, the father in him coming through in his reproach. "Jorge..."
  "Right. Sorry, boss."
  Sharon glanced quickly back at Gabe, concern in her eyes, wondering slightly if he made the suggestion for her sake. To spare her. Save her from what was being asked of her. The vileness of what was coming.
  Back to Earnhardt. She already knew her answer. Despite not wanting to say it aloud. "I'll do it. I...I'll get the job done."
  Earnhardt smirked again. "I applaud your enthusiasm, Ms. Gordon, but, given your record over these past twenty-four hours, I'd say that remains to be seen. However, should this operation and the subsequent raid on the treasury prove to be successful, then this will certainly force Mr. Deegan's hand. He will need his lieutenant to take risks in planning and executing retaliatory strikes against us. This street war will be bloody, but we will endure, for we will have the resources and money that he lacks. Mr. Deegan's lieutenant, who we know very little about other than he goes by the endearing moniker of 'The Butcher', will undoubtedly make a mistake, a move of desperation, or be found out by one of our informants or snitches. And if we can take The Butcher alive, we can force him to reveal Mr. Deegan's whereabouts. And with Mr. Deegan out of the picture, Mr. Winters' drug empire will grow nearly two-fold."
  Earnhardt sighed. Focused on Sharon. "I am loathe to say it, but as of right now you, Ms. Gordon, are the linchpin of this entire strategy as it stands today." Then he looked to Charles, Jorge, and Gabe, focusing more heavily on Gabe. "As are all of you. Mr. Winters has his eyes on all of you, and you will all be handsomely rewarded should all go according to plan. Don't. Fuck. This. Up."
  Earnhardt stood, and Charles stood as well.
  "I'll begin the final preparations," Earnhardt said as he walked around the table and toward the door. He stopped as his hand touched the knob. "Oh. Charles." He motioned his head at Sharon. "Get her cleaned up and respectable, would you?"
  And Earnhardt left.
  Not long after the door closed, Jorge nudged Gabe and said, "What a fuckin' blowhard, right? Fuckin' hell, I wish the old lieutenant was still kickin' 'round here."
  Charles made his way around the table to Sharon. "Listen, Sharon, I...this was something I had no part in. You don't have to feel forced—"
  "I'm doing it," Sharon said. Her face hardened. "I don't like it, but I'm doing it. You and I both know I have to, and not for my own sake."

* * * * *

  Cass curled up into a ball. Mostly. Her injured leg she kept straight.
  "Always here. Always in this spot. Always this man. No choice. No hope. And n-next time it's worse. It's always worse. Again, but worse. Worse and w-worse. Happens all over again. But worse. I'll see...I'll see her again...I'll...ma...Mama? Mama? Mama? Please...please don't die this time...please...I don't want you to die again..."

[Gawfy]

Gabe chuckled as he gave  Earnhardt the finger behind his back, quickly putting down as he saw Earnhardt's head tilt as if he was going to look back. Another chuckle was let out as    Jorge made his comment. How many Asses ya think he had to kiss to get where he is? Gabe then took a handful of coins from his Sack before putting the sack on the table again and kicking it over to Sharon
Before she could speak gabe himself spoke up. Consider it your own money, I did swoop in and kill the men you where supposed to kill, taking your job and your pay for a day For somthin that was left up to chance would make me sick. Gabe then flashed the coins he took from before to Sharon as he held his hand up. Ive been living on much less then this ever since i could breathe, Ill be fine.
He then got his feet off the table as he stood up. so what to do before the job?

[Valtxr]

  Jorge laughed. Prick like Earnhardt probably had sewer breath and a few curly hairs still stuck between his teeth from the sheer tonnage of ass he had kissed.
  Sharon's cheeks turned red when Gabe offered up some of his own payment. She was used to 'charity', having begged for it for years on the street, but this was different. A gift, voluntarily given. "Oh, I...hardly know what to say." She smiled, laying a hand on the weighty bag of coins. "Thank you. Really, this means a lot."
  Charles started for the office door. Said quietly as he reached it, "Come on. One of the house servants has been preparing a warm bath for you, Sharon. There'll be clothes in the same room for you to change into as well."
  She nodded, grabbing the sack of coins. "Alright."
  Jorge grabbed his as well and followed her and Charles out the door.
  The other room was also on the second floor, to the right of Earnhardt's office. The female house servant stood by the door, empty water bucket in hand. She left as soon as they approached.
  Sharon laid a hand on the door knob. Opened it. Looked to Charles. Offered a weak smile. He nodded, however reluctantly. She entered the room and closed the door behind her.
  Charles placed his hands on the balustrade of the second floor walkway and looked over the grand foyer.
  Jorge, on the other hand, glanced at Gabe and quickly arched his eyebrows, cracking a big grin.
  He knocked on the door after a moment. "'Ey, Sharon?"
  A second passed. An audible huff of breath from the other side of the door. "What, Jorge?"
  "You mind if we help? You know, wash your back or some such?"
  The door opened slightly. Sharon's bare arm and hand came out, and flipped him the middle finger.
  And the door shut again.
  "Just thought I'd do the neighborly thing and ask, love."
  No response.
  Jorge chuckled, then looked to Gabe. "Well, mate, wha'do'ya feel like doin' today? Wanna play the part of Sharon's handler and do some talkin'? Or bein' the muscle more your kinda thing? I'm game for either one."

  Inside the bathroom, Sharon stripped down to nothing.
  At the edge of the bathtub, she stopped. Looked over her body. This was the last time she'd see it like this. Pure. Untouched.
  She shook her head slowly. Foolishness. Chastity was something for Ladies to worry about. And she was no Lady. A chill of embarrassment passed over her for even entertaining such a thought.
  She dipped a foot into the bathtub first. Warm water. Such a simple luxury. She climbed into the tub, slid down in it until the water lightly splashed against her neck. She closed her eyes, soaking in the rare comfort of something like this.
  Then she opened them, and noticed something on her right hand.
  Caked blood. On her knuckles.
  She grabbed the bath sponge from the nearby table and feverishly started scrubbing it off.
  As if it could ever be washed away.

[Wycliff]

Aven raises an eyebrow. It was worse than he thought: she actually believed that she'd relived this situation over and over. Reaching out, he put a hand on her forehead, the shadows of her mind obeying his command to search for mind-altering magics. He'd learned this little trick from a Prince of Shadows, an interesting technique, though he hadn't even close to mastered it. At best, he might detect them, but as for a cure, unless it was related to demon magics, he could do nothing about it.
However, it was obvious from Cass's assumption that he was going to hurt her when he'd rescued her that she didn't know he was trying to help her: if she'd relived the same situation over and over, but worse, she would have known that he was an ally. So that invalidated her claims of repetition by default: needless to say, though, she still believed it, so mind altering magics were the only possibility. That, or her mind had already been broken long ago.



Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Valtxr]

  Cass whimpered and shriveled away from Aven's touch, but not by much. Certainly not enough to break contact with his hand.
  And there was nothing. No mind-altering magic. No magic of any kind about her.
  In this case, it appeared an idea was more dangerous than any spell. A belief had infected her, changed her worldview. Reality, from her perspective.
  "...don't hurt me..." she whispered, "...don't hurt me...I'm just a courier...Cass the courier...don't hurt me...please..."

[Wycliff]

Aven retracted his hand, and shook his head. "I told you, I'm not going to hurt you, little one. If anyone is hurting you, it is your own thoughts. Whoever told you that you will repeat your life after you die is full of shit, excuse my language. Even gods cannot create such a paradox, it violates the laws of the universe. Expel that idea from your mind, it is destroying your psyche."
Aven's eyes drooped as the sun's light finally broke past his defenses, and weakened his thoughts and body. Ugh, not now... He needed to know what that letter meant: he had a hunch it was linked to whoever told Cass about Samsara. "Can you remember who told you those ridiculous lies? Were they cultists?"


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Valtxr]

  Cass shuddered violently when Aven said 'cultists'.
  She rolled over onto her stomach. Pathetically started crawling on her arms and elbows, dragging her body slowly across the rooftop.
  "I'm there...and now I'm here...I'm there...and now I'm here. I don't...don't wanna be here anymore. The forest. I can make it. I-I can make it. Hide away...hide..."

[Wycliff]

Aven noticed her reaction to the word cultist, confirming his suspicion. Whoever told her may be trying to create a god by gathering believers, or something similar. No doubt, it was a malicious practice, but an effective one. Most major deities existed from the beginning, to his knowledge, but minor deities could be created or empowered through faith. A single tendril of shadow extended from behind Aven, wrapping by around Cass's waist and holding her still. "You're in no condition to go anywhere, Miss Cass, you will only hurt yourself further. Can you please tell me who these cultists are?"


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Valtxr]

  Cass still went through the motions of crawling, despite going no where.
  "I can make it...I can make it..."
  She heard Aven's question. Winced as she strained to look at him.
  "No! No, no, no. Oh, no. I-I can't do that. I...I already said I'm sorry! I said I was sorry, didn't I? What else do you w-want from me? I just...I just wanna go. I can't...bear to be here...I just want some peace...quiet..."

[Gawfy]

I think ill have to do the talking. Gabe said as he pointed toward his own face.  You've got that scar on your face, might make it a bit harder to pretend to be a high class man. he then looked down at his chest. I can put on a shirt and look some what reasonable. He looked over to Charles.  what do you think?