![Meeting Arc Pt. 2 [Single Post] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
by Note: This thread is an import from the old Zetaboards site. The original poste can be found here: http://s15.zetaboards.com/Wiegenlied_RPG/topic/10083595/1/#new
The night after he talked to his friends about the man and the note, he ended up sitting on a bench, clutching a handwritten note with a sketch and address on it, wondering what in fresh hell he was doing in such a place. To both sides there was nothing but pitch black, the suburbs of this fucking town didn't have any of the fancy electric lighting, and it didn't have people rich enough to burn candles this late either, or god forbid- gas lighting. Besides, why would such a man want to meet in a place where they could look each-other in the eye? This sort of grumbling filled every thought-moment that Hugo could have spared, up until the man himself stepped up behind him and pressed the point of a knife against the inside of his jaw. He spoke with a spiteful growl, too low for anyone respectable to hear, "If you so much as open your mouth before I tell you to speak, I'll cut you wide open and tell everyone in the city about your alchemist buddy."
Hugo shrugged, and awkwardly nodded his head in confirmation.
The man went on, his voice more normal. "How rude of me to not introduce myself, Hugo. I'm Otto. Well, that's one of my names, anyway. I've got a job for you- that's why I haven't turned you in yet. I bet you're bubbling with questions, after such an eventful first impression, how about you ask me just one, and we'll see what I think of it, hm? Speak."
Hugo thought for a second, and so many questions seemed like the most important question, so he just picked one and blurted it out. "Why are you doing this?"
Otto laughed, and spoke easily, smarmily even, "Well, you could say I've found myself in a position where it would be ill advised to leave the country, so I need what you might call a thrall to do my business. Someone willing to do a~nything to protect his friends..." by the end, he was whispering so close to Hugo's ear that he felt the heat of his breath across the side of his face. "Go on, ask another, I'm feeling generous. Speak."
Hugo gave it about as much thought as the first question. "I have a bomb, you fucking- you fuck! Why don't I blow you and me up right now? What's going to stop me?"
Otto seemed almost disappointed, and spoke only after he dug the knife into the soft part of his neck, drawing a little blood. "Don't be such a damn idiot, Hugo." He said, sounding bored. "I've got 3 people watching us with night-vision enchanted scopes, you'd have to kill me, and each of them to stop my little black book from coming out, and tearing the entire country in apart with it."
Hugo spoke out of turn, "You're lying, nobody has that kind of power-" The knife dug even deeper, and he had to force himself not to scream bloody murder in the night- which would totally ensure his death.
"Maybe I do and maybe I dont, you little prick," He spat, "but if you speak before I tell you again, I'll cut your smart-assed head off and put it on the doormat for the expiate to step over when they break down your fucking door and take in your little friends, and you can bet I have that kind of power, you thick-skulled cuckold." In just a moment, he went from hissing murderous intent, to speaking easily like they were old friends, "Now, about that job I mentioned."
Hugo heard him reach into his pockets, ruffling a few papers and such, and finally pulling out a book of travel papers. It had a name in it, "Sebastian Stalwart." Taking out another booklet, he pointed to several names in a list, each with a city, an address, and a country. Otto wasted no time explaining. "Each of these people have a little locket, it looks like a hexagram, with half of the points colored in red, and the other half colored in blue. It doesn't mean anything but a bunch of bullshit, but you're going to steal them from them, and take them to me. You will leave the city tomorrow, taking these papers, and you'll go to the first address. I don't care how you get them, I don't care if you have to kill the guy, but you're going to get me that damn necklace. Or else- well, I shouldn't have to repeat myself, right?"
Hugo shook his head.
"Good boy. I'm going to get up, and I'm going to walk away. You will wait here for 8 minutes, and woman will come by, give you a healing potion, and you'll tell your friends that I wasn't here. Tomorrow, a letter will show in the mail that you need to visit your cousin in Aldermerrow. You'll do it if you know whats good for you. Take care Hugo."
Time passed. Hugo barely breathed. It couldn't be real, it wasn't real. This was some young adults novel grade insanity, alright, this couldn't possibly be real. But instead, he was still there, and in exactly 848 heartbeats, a woman appeared with a green vial. He took it, and drank it down as the tears streamed down his face. It didn't taste as good as violets, and it smelled a little bit like spinach. He hated spinach. The woman took it back, and left Hugo sitting there. He spent most of the night on that bench, in simple dumbfounded confusion, until a familiar face with a badge and a billy club got him to leave and go home.
He did as he was told, and explained that nobody was there, but he locked himself out of the building, you know, and he couldn't find his key. That's why he stayed out so late. And then a couple of minutes later, a letter slipped under the door, and when he read it, his stomach dropped right the way out of his gut. Apparently, one cousin Albrecht wanted to see him for some very urgent inheritance news.
He explained, falteringly, that Albrecht was a distantly related silversmith, you know, he lived out on the other side of Aldermerrow, and someone must have put him in the will for something on that side of the family. He ought to leave today, in order to get there as fast as possible, so if you don't mind, he'll just go pack a few things and see about it. As he stepped out of the door, he explained that he'd definitely be back in a week or so. He even meant it.
The night after he talked to his friends about the man and the note, he ended up sitting on a bench, clutching a handwritten note with a sketch and address on it, wondering what in fresh hell he was doing in such a place. To both sides there was nothing but pitch black, the suburbs of this fucking town didn't have any of the fancy electric lighting, and it didn't have people rich enough to burn candles this late either, or god forbid- gas lighting. Besides, why would such a man want to meet in a place where they could look each-other in the eye? This sort of grumbling filled every thought-moment that Hugo could have spared, up until the man himself stepped up behind him and pressed the point of a knife against the inside of his jaw. He spoke with a spiteful growl, too low for anyone respectable to hear, "If you so much as open your mouth before I tell you to speak, I'll cut you wide open and tell everyone in the city about your alchemist buddy."
Hugo shrugged, and awkwardly nodded his head in confirmation.
The man went on, his voice more normal. "How rude of me to not introduce myself, Hugo. I'm Otto. Well, that's one of my names, anyway. I've got a job for you- that's why I haven't turned you in yet. I bet you're bubbling with questions, after such an eventful first impression, how about you ask me just one, and we'll see what I think of it, hm? Speak."
Hugo thought for a second, and so many questions seemed like the most important question, so he just picked one and blurted it out. "Why are you doing this?"
Otto laughed, and spoke easily, smarmily even, "Well, you could say I've found myself in a position where it would be ill advised to leave the country, so I need what you might call a thrall to do my business. Someone willing to do a~nything to protect his friends..." by the end, he was whispering so close to Hugo's ear that he felt the heat of his breath across the side of his face. "Go on, ask another, I'm feeling generous. Speak."
Hugo gave it about as much thought as the first question. "I have a bomb, you fucking- you fuck! Why don't I blow you and me up right now? What's going to stop me?"
Otto seemed almost disappointed, and spoke only after he dug the knife into the soft part of his neck, drawing a little blood. "Don't be such a damn idiot, Hugo." He said, sounding bored. "I've got 3 people watching us with night-vision enchanted scopes, you'd have to kill me, and each of them to stop my little black book from coming out, and tearing the entire country in apart with it."
Hugo spoke out of turn, "You're lying, nobody has that kind of power-" The knife dug even deeper, and he had to force himself not to scream bloody murder in the night- which would totally ensure his death.
"Maybe I do and maybe I dont, you little prick," He spat, "but if you speak before I tell you again, I'll cut your smart-assed head off and put it on the doormat for the expiate to step over when they break down your fucking door and take in your little friends, and you can bet I have that kind of power, you thick-skulled cuckold." In just a moment, he went from hissing murderous intent, to speaking easily like they were old friends, "Now, about that job I mentioned."
Hugo heard him reach into his pockets, ruffling a few papers and such, and finally pulling out a book of travel papers. It had a name in it, "Sebastian Stalwart." Taking out another booklet, he pointed to several names in a list, each with a city, an address, and a country. Otto wasted no time explaining. "Each of these people have a little locket, it looks like a hexagram, with half of the points colored in red, and the other half colored in blue. It doesn't mean anything but a bunch of bullshit, but you're going to steal them from them, and take them to me. You will leave the city tomorrow, taking these papers, and you'll go to the first address. I don't care how you get them, I don't care if you have to kill the guy, but you're going to get me that damn necklace. Or else- well, I shouldn't have to repeat myself, right?"
Hugo shook his head.
"Good boy. I'm going to get up, and I'm going to walk away. You will wait here for 8 minutes, and woman will come by, give you a healing potion, and you'll tell your friends that I wasn't here. Tomorrow, a letter will show in the mail that you need to visit your cousin in Aldermerrow. You'll do it if you know whats good for you. Take care Hugo."
Time passed. Hugo barely breathed. It couldn't be real, it wasn't real. This was some young adults novel grade insanity, alright, this couldn't possibly be real. But instead, he was still there, and in exactly 848 heartbeats, a woman appeared with a green vial. He took it, and drank it down as the tears streamed down his face. It didn't taste as good as violets, and it smelled a little bit like spinach. He hated spinach. The woman took it back, and left Hugo sitting there. He spent most of the night on that bench, in simple dumbfounded confusion, until a familiar face with a badge and a billy club got him to leave and go home.
He did as he was told, and explained that nobody was there, but he locked himself out of the building, you know, and he couldn't find his key. That's why he stayed out so late. And then a couple of minutes later, a letter slipped under the door, and when he read it, his stomach dropped right the way out of his gut. Apparently, one cousin Albrecht wanted to see him for some very urgent inheritance news.
He explained, falteringly, that Albrecht was a distantly related silversmith, you know, he lived out on the other side of Aldermerrow, and someone must have put him in the will for something on that side of the family. He ought to leave today, in order to get there as fast as possible, so if you don't mind, he'll just go pack a few things and see about it. As he stepped out of the door, he explained that he'd definitely be back in a week or so. He even meant it.
