Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 11 March 2005 |
| Who: | Butch, Kacela, Uzal |
| What: | Butch and Uzal try to forge connections with Kacela, who is preoccupied with shoe shopping. Butch makes his animosity towards Nicodemus known. |
Fetish Footwear
A discreet sign over the door out on the street marks this store as 'Fetish Footwear'. Damaris Sence, the owner, named the shoe store Fetish Footwear after she realized what type of customers were usually showing up for her custom made shoes. The store itself has footwear across the entire range of shoes, but it is her custom made work that truly draws people here. And the fact she's not overly expensive (yet not too cheap either), makes her store and her trade quite popular.
The store is laid out with each wall lined with a different type of shoe. One wall has Formal wear and boots, another has sneakers and tennis shoes, and another has her custom design samples. Across the room from the door is the register and a desk to the right of it where Damaris works in public view. There is a small dressing room behind the register where people can try on the shoes with any outfit they want.
Kacela is situated in front of the dressing rooms, resplendent in a gown. She is in fact being serviced by one of the cashiers. She is clad in a particularly large heel, and is fussing with the arrangement of the straps that travel upwards to her knees and beyond.
Uzal strolls in, hands in pockets, surveying the store's offerings. He also checks out the employees, of course, searching for telltale signs of overwork and underpay. It's his duty to protect the world's workers! And so he happens to spot Kacela. He stops for a moment, to appreciate the view.
Butch is walking down the Northern sprawl of the city that stretches out from the downtown area. Checking out the busy businesses and development areas. Making notes to himself of the layout of this part of the city. When he happens to pass by the discreet yet nicely located Fetish Footware store...and a particular customer that he recognizes. He stops and allows a moment to let his eyes slowly run up and down, paying close attention to the shoes of course. Oh and that other lovebird from the bar and the street corner that night is inside too! Well, might as well join the party. He slides the door open and stuffs his hands into his jacket as he enters.
Kacela rolls her foot, and hrns to herself to reach down, cupping hands over her ankles. She smiles slightly, and says, "This is well done, Brian, thank you..." At the jingle of the door, her dress glitters as she restands, head whipping around to peer at the two. "When it rains, it pours," she muses to herself. "Gentlemen, I trust you've been putting extra effort into looking sharp, right? He said he'd be back in a fortnight to check up on Mister Lyman..." Her expression cools considerably, and perhaps just now noticing the scrutiny, narrows her eyes and crosses arms over her shoulder. The shoed foot is extended out and forward authoritatively.
Butch turns to look out the front door and down the street, almost like hes keeping an eye out for anyone looking to come into the store. "Well, its hard to look sharp without a little insurrance if you ask me...But, it sounds to me like you've got a little somthing cooked up, eh?"
Scrutiny? Why, it is just... appreciation. Uzal smiles at her gallantly, not the least nonplussed by her coolness. He notes the byplay between the other two. "Ah, the One I Do Not Serve seems to find me sharp enough, for the most part," he smiles cheerfully. "But it never hurts to enhance one's image, no? And since I do a great deal of walking about..." He glances around at the shoes, smirking happily.
Kacela arches a narrow black eyebrow towards Butch. "I am a veritable wastrel when it comes to that. I don't have a single thing cooked up for myself." Her gaze snaps over towards Uzal, forbidding him to contradict her. "However, interfering with the plans of others is a definite possibility." She whips around, braids and the hem of her dress flaring about her dramatically before she paces to get changed, a faintly pleased hum sounding from her.
Kacela adds, "I find their airbrushing of flame patterns to be quite striking."
Butch perks up and looks back into the store at the mention of 'flame patterns'. "Do they only do shoes here or do they personalize other stuff? Errr.. I mean, yeah messing with others is all well and good....but I mean, c'mon. I didn't just fall off the cabbage truck. We ALL need to work together if we want to bring down the big boys and REALLY make a name for ourselves!"
Kacela re-emerges in more conventional dress, and hands the shoes to one of the cashiers. "Just shoes. Perhaps one of these days they'll expand to belts or some such. Who knows?" She shrugs indifferently. "And yes, I know full well about strategy. Who's leading whom is very, very important."
Uzal arches an eyebrow mildly at Kacela, smirking to himself. No doubt she has much more than a single thing cooked up. "Interfering... well, if you should wish some help in that department, dear lady..." He smiles warmly, watching her trek to the changing booth and back.
Butch nods and lets his attention flow back to the front door and the world outside the store. "Well, yeah thats true and all. Don't get me wrong. I had my ears cleaned out when the boss showed up on the street corner. I heard what was said and...first impressions tell me that the guy were talking about is a chump. I don't see him looking to do us any good NOW. He wants his privliges first. Thats bull. Im a grunt, but Im a damned good one. Thats why Im here and not plucking bone....err perhaps this isn't the best place for this conversation..."
Kacela hrnphs as she quickly pays for the rather tall shoes, "Of THAT I have no doubt, Mister Ulysses. I would just prefer that I not be the one interfered with." She flicks her gaze towards Butch, and hrns. "You are right, of course. Well, I'll let you two carry on." A light shrug is offered to him, as she coos out, "I think I have a chump to meet."
Butch steps off to the side as the lady exits the shop. Then he looks back to Uzal and smirks, shaking his head slightly. Then moments later his smile widdens and he starts to chuckle loudly.
"Would I dream of interfering?" Uzal murmurs as he watches the attractive woman complete her purchase, then looks at Butch, a spark of interest kindling in his eyes. "It seems to me that Lyman's intentions are most pernicious ones," he nods in agreement, then hms quietly, looking about. "Would you prefer to go elsewhere? I am not yet acquainted with the placement of Lyman's mobile ears in this town, of which I imagine he has many." He studies the store employees thoughtfully, with just a touch of Balseraph paranoia.
Butch composes himself quickly and looks about. "Yeah...shoes....are a little girly for me. Say, ummm this 'Lyman' guy...is he the 'chump' that weve been refering to? The other guy who got to talk to the boss that night? Good job by the way." He just pours on the sarcastic tone in the last sentance, and tops it with a wide grin. "Naww, just jerkin ya man. Your back so, your ok in my book. If you know a place then lead the way!"
Uzal's eyebrows lift at Butch's sarcasm, but he doesn't visibly react. He bears the peculiar circumstances of his existence stoically. He cracks a smile in return, nodding, "Yes, Mr. Lyman, Nicodemus Lyman that is, is the fellow who wishes to be the ruler of this fair town. The man who would be king." He smirks a bit, though his eyes narrow with a spark of barely-concealed hatred. "Any enemies of his may count themselves as my friends," he smiles guilelessly, then hrms. "I am myself but new to this metropolis, and as I have been... absent, the last several days, I have not yet acquainted myself with all of its attractions. Shall we go out and see?"
Butch nods and pulls out his hands from his jacket pockets. "Lead the way cowboy. I bet we've got a lot more in-common than meets the eye."
Uzal winces slightly at the word 'lead'. "I shall walk, and you may accompany me if you wish," he says graciously. Must avoid dissonance. As he steps out the door, he asks curiously, "In common, you say? How so?"
Butch shrugs as he follows the man out the door. "Well for starters, we'd rather not have this conversation in a bloody shoe shop!" He laughs at his own bad humor. "And you've got some guts. You look like the type of guy who does what he wants, lets the chips fall where they may, and stands up to take the consequences of his actions after the fact. Heh, I mean you ARE here right now. So tall dark and powerfull must have found you a tad more usefull than many might think. Cause I mean, our likes are a dime a dozen... Unless we break the mold. You know what I mean?"
Uzal smiles proudly as the flattery washes over his Balseraph ego... although he's careful not to take it /too/ seriously. "How kind of you to say so," he dips his head graciously. He regards the other with interest. "And, you, too, are one of those who aspires to break the mold, sir? I don't believe I've caught your name, by the way."
Butch chuckles again. "Yeah, didn't really get the chance to swap names when we first met...Seemed like somthing pulled your attention away before introductions." He smiles teasingly. "But seriously, the names Butch Valentine. Firefighter. And you?"
Uzal continues to be a good sport about his torture. He just smiles back charmingly, "I go by the name of Ulysses Aster. I currently work as a freelance computing consultant. It allows me to help out the local firms." His teeth glitter, and he reaches out to shake hands.
Butch grabs the outstreetched hand and gives him a firm and quick handshake. "Well then, where do you suggest we converse thats a secure locale?"
Roll by Uzal: (4) (6) (1)
No Dinero
The ground level floor for No Dinero is in fact the upper of two levels. Originally a collective by the more bohemian artists who sought to unify their creative efforts and utility bills, the building has over the years turned into a club. The main floor is L-shaped structure provides seating with the frugal minimalism that suits most punk venues, allowing party-goers ample view of the basement which serves as the dancefloor below.
The music from below ranges from thrash metal to ska to the more usual punk fare, and riot grrls mill about with rude boys in the decidedly... noisy and colorful environs. From time to time, a mosh pit opens up during the more vigorous numbers, but they're short-lived, given the effort required for their upkeep. Transactions, from who's buying the beer, who's doing the next tour with whom, and other, shadier business takes place in the shadows.
Uzal smiles happily, giving a relaxed sigh as he steps into the club. "Ahh... my favorite place. I do appreciate the atmosphere here." Cheerfully, he takes in the music wafting up from the basement. "This club is also run by a collective of young bohemian upstarts. It has no single leader," he adds in an approving tone.
Butch practically yells out. "ALLRIGHT! Sweet man. Great pick! This is my kind of place! So, what corner or level do you want to kick off our more detailed conversation in?" He starts bobing involuntarily to the music, a long sneer forming as he eyes all the people enjoying the music and their own little lives.
Uzal's foot taps merrily, and he bobs his head like a 'headbanger', grinning. "Mmm... I think we should not be /too/ close to the amps, if we wish to have an actual conversation. Over there, perhaps?" He points to an area away from the pit, but where the music can still be heard, albeit at a somewhat muted volume.
Butch just start heading the direction Uzal points out. Not bothering to respond or pay attention to whats going on around him, hes just soaking in the environment and the music. He bobs in and out of stupid punked out teens raving their way to the pit and the dance floor. And makes his way to the area close to a far corner where Uzal pointed out.
Quite in his element, Uzal is enjoying the setting, too. He smiles widely as he sits down opposite Butch. "Well. Now that we have found such a pleasant location, why don't you tell me more about yourself?" he says encouragingly. "I would know of your plans, and what we can offer each other in our mutual alliance against Lyman."
Butch shrugs. "I dunno if I'd go that far. I don't really have anything against him personally, but his plans suck in my opinion. I'd like to see him spend the rest of his 'fortnight' drooling and curled up in a ball next to his heart." He sneers and seems to revel in the thought of landing a 'killing blow' to the sniveling demon. "As for myself. /Currently/ I am in service to Baal. As I understand it, he needed somone with my attributes in the area. But, I havn't been given any specific orders...So, Im doing what I do best. Organize a tough gang and go beat some fear into the host where it counts!"
Uzal gives a nod, taking in Butch's words. His eyes brighten as Butch speaks of Lyman in Trauma. "Mm.. it may be difficult to get to Lyman directly, satisfying though such an outcome would be. Perhaps, he could be discredited and weakened first. Do you know who works for him?" he inquires with interest. He then continues nodding thoughtfully as Butch goes on. "Ah, a self-starter. Good for you, Butch."
Butch frowns slightly. "Bah, I don't really know what hes involved in ...nor whom he works for..Such intel would be helpfull...but really, I prefer the more direct approach. But, thats just me. I'm the kind who likes to savor a fight...but plays to win. Tho, I've learned that it does pay to be subtle at times. Can't go blowing up everything. I've learned that lesson allright."
Uzal nods to Butch. "Often, if you would play to win, you must prepare. Lyman has many guards and servants. They are his strength.... but also his weakness." His teeth shine in a wicked grin. "Especially when I am here." He rubs his hands together thoughtfully. "If I can create a breach in his security, he will be left unprotected. That may give you the crucial break, to do your work."
Butch looks puzzeled for a moment. "Wait. He has many servants and guards even? What does he do here? Do you know whom he works for, or where he stays or works." He pauses for a moment and then smiles. "You sure have a lot of faith in my 'abilities'. Well, I sure do enjoy a challenge...but some help would be nice. If an infiltration and...assassination of sorts is in order, then I'll need some time to prepare....Fair warning, depending on where this goes down,/if/ it does...It could get noisy." His smile widens in a toothy grin at the last remark.
"From what I have found out so far, he is a businessman, portraying himself as a philanthropist," Uzal smiles ironically, "but in his less public occupation he is what is known as an 'organized crime boss.' Or so he is accused of being. He does indeed have a retinue of sadly misled and benighted souls who carry guns for him. It is likely that most of these are mortals, and thus will be quite open to the enlightenment and assistance I shall offer. But he will also be on the alert for such measures, and so we must be cautious." He smiles at the Calabite. "As for my faith in you, well, I cannot doubt your enthusiasm."
Butch nods and flicks his tounge over his teeth. "Sounds, promissing. Say, you wouldn't happen to have any...should I say, endentured mundane servants around? They tend to help keep the noise level down. Hehehe, I may need to start gathering supplies....and whipping up a few coctails."
Uzal looks almost scandalized for a moment. "Would I....? Oh, goodness, no. You forget who I am, Butch," he says softly, almost hissing out the words. His eyes narrow briefly. He contemplates other plans he may have for Butch in the future, but for now, he needs him as an ally. So, he keeps hold of his patience.
Butch says, "Im affraid im not following you Ulysses?" He cocks his head to one side lookin rather puzzeled. "I suppose i don't need any help from simple mundanes. Hrmmm, I really need to find a fuckin Herald in this damn'd city. That would help get the ball rolling.""
"I would not violate my own dissonance conditions, any more, I am sure, than you would yours," Uzal responds stiffly, still looking a bit miffed. He composes his injured pride, arranging his fingers on the table, looking almost fastidious despite his 'punk' style. Letting out a slight sigh, he then tilts his head, "Herald, you say? What sort of herald?"
Butch shakes his head sadly, and looks around slowly scanning the crowd. "A Herald. They are an integral part of The Hellforce. You do know of the Hellforce don't you? There /should/ be a cell in this city. I mean where there are demonic tethers, the Hellforce ARE bound to be around too."
"Ahh, the Hellforce. Yes," Uzal nods. He makes another mental note, to find out where the local chapter is headquartered and begin the work of liberating the poor humans from Baal's slavery. Out loud to Butch, he says, "Well, you are a Servitor of Baal. You would be better at finding them than I." He pauses, "Mm, you said you were given /no/ instructions when you were sent here? How odd."
Butch shakes his head yet again. "Now now...I said i was /currently/ working for Baal. Im not one of his boys, but Im doing some special work here for him...Servitors of my type aren't usually given orders so much as boundries NOT to cross."
"Ah indeed." Uzal's eyes brighten. Now this is getting more complex. "Special work, you say? You must have special areas of expertise, to be so sought for." He gives an interested smile.
Butch shrugs. "I break shit. Lots of it. And when I get in a fight I don't like to stop. Not even when it's over. Thats gotten me in some hot water once or twice. Im also really blunt and don't care if I make a splash in the symphony once in a while. Thats also pissed off a superior or two... In fact, Im probably here because im a more berserk and volatile element...yet expendable. Somthing they decided needed to be mixed in to stir things up here."
Uzal nods quietly, taking in Butch's words, and just a bit of sympathy comes to his face -- not enough to appear pitying, but enough to show that he can relate. "Ah, I do understand," he nods. "You are headstrong, you follow your own drive, your own instincts..." Perhaps his own Discord, too. He's a Calabite, after all. Uzal strokes his lip, then smiles. "Well, you seem to have come to the right place, Butch. The Truce which was once held in this city has been broken, and there are rumors that what's been happening here could be the start of something big."
Butch rears his head back and practically laughs out loud. "There was a TRUCE here!? Ha! No wonder I got this transfer! Thats such a load of bull. I bet the demon population here is sadly out gunned....thats why there was a TRUCE! BAH. Thats why we need to deal a decisive blow! And soon!"
Uzal chuckles, enjoying the mirth. "Austin was unique among cities, yes. But that has changed." He rubs his chin, thoughtfully. "I was drawn to come here when I heard rumors that the Antichrist was on Earth. I knew that was unlikely, but then I found out about Christian. He is dead, of course, so he was likely not the Antichrist. But his unfortunate course attracted a lot of Superior attention. And now the One I Serve Not has shown up, in person... I am curious where this all will lead.
Butch looks rather straight faced for a moment. "So, what is it that you DO, exactly? It's quite clear whom you don't serve...but we all serve somone. Whom do you?"
Uzal lifts his eyebrows, almost in surprise. "Ah. 'Know ye not then? Know ye not me?'" he quotes from Milton, and throws his head back in a long chuckle. "Ah. Well, I think you will figure it out soon enough."
Butch snorts. "You can sure be difficult and mysterious when you want to. I'll give you that much. I have my guesses but, theyre just that. But I DO want a straight answer for this next one. If I or some mutual associates get into a scrap or go looking for one, are you gonna help out if you can?"
"I cannot engage in violence against humans," Uzal responds. "That is one of my dissonance conditions -- the law of Myself, the only law I must obey." Hint, hint, hint. "And indeed I am not best suited for most forms of physical combat. But should your purposes be compatible with my own, I shall be happy to assist, in various ways." Ask a Balseraph for a straight answer?
Roll by Uzal: (4) (3) (4)
Uzal checks his watch, and notes that an hour has elapsed. He uses his Perceptual resonance, to discover more about the other demon.
Butch just slouches up against the wall and sighs. "Listen, why im here in the grander scale isn't as important right now. What is important is a strong aliance. WE need to start rounding people up and get somthing started. I understand that not everyone is 'built for combat' but that doesn't mean you can't help me or our 'friends' in some other way. So either your in it to win it. Or your in the same category as chumpy." He smiles faintly. "And I just don't see you as that type. So whats it gonna be?"
Uzal's violet eyes narrow with interest as the Symphony hands him a Butch dossier. A troublemaker.. how delightful. He says nothing of his discoveries, however, but just hms thoughtfully at Butch's words. "The same type as Nicodemus Lyman? Certainly not," he responds disdainfully. Then, his eyes twinkle. "I will tell you who I really am, Butch, if you promise not to spread the information around to those who don't know it already."
Butch rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. Fine, if it will make you feel better about it. I promise not to tell. I certainly hope that whenever you do whatever it is that you supposedly do. That its a much clearer and efficent than your answers thus far."
"I will certainly help you in the undermining and overturning of Nicodemus Lyman. I cannot promise for certain anything beyond than that; my nature is more one of subversion than of open force, as I have said." Uzal tilts his head consideringly. He lips quirk upward slightly as he decides to string Butch along still more. "I am... well, one may say that I am one without a master. I am a city built beside a river. Though the river has risen over me many times, the city still stands," he proclaims proudly. Ah, riddles.
Butch looks sad almost as he hangs his head low for a moment. "I was figure'n you'd go and say somthing like that. Pfft. Don't worry no seven force newbred servitor of the game would give a spit about ya if you keep throwing around answers like that. Tho a ten force one might just smear ya. At any rate, im gratefull for your....well I still don't know what the hell you do. But if you do anything at all i'll probably be a little gratefull. But, I don't think /I/ will be calling on you for much. Your not my type. I like guys who will at least give me a straight lie."
Uzal watches Butch's reaction. Such a pity, he doesn't like riddles. Then, he leans in and lowers his voice conspiratorically. "Very well. I will tell you in plain English." He pauses dramatically. "I am Insubordination," he whispers. "I think you can see why I would be adverse to admitting such, considering that everyone in power hates me and wants to kill me." He says this not with self-pity, but matter-of-factly -- almost with a note of pride.
Butch blinks. "Yeah, deffinately wont be calling on you much then now will I?" He smiles faintly as he leans in and lowers his voice too. "I'll let you in on a secret then. If you'll hear me out."
Uzal sighs with a note of philosophical resignation at Butch's first words, "I expected as much," then tilts his head curiously as Butch continues, "Oh, what is that?" He leans in quietly to listen.
Butch yells out "I DONT GIVE A FUCK! And what you gotta realize is that the host benefits from out petty in-fighting. I understand that the ocasional culling of the weak or foolish needs to be done. But if you stop there...then whats the point?"
Uzal's ears ring. "Goodness," he murmurs, shaking his head. He then shrugs at Butch's words. "I defy the mighty... it is my grand cause to assault the citadels of power and privilege, wherever they be found. Just as you assault the Host, and fling your will against Almighty God." He smiles. "I am free to act for myself; for me, that exemplifies what Hell stands for."
"Ok bud. Sure, you want to go ahead and build your little box fort around yourself then fine. Go right ahead. But, I wouldn't be quick to burn bridges if I were you. Hell may be all about rebellion. BUT it's about a rebellion thats JUSTIFIED." He snorts loudly. "From what i've heard, your point aint too justifiable. Sounds to me like your into rebellion just for the sake of rebelling...even for me thats a bit much... Don't fret, your....'secret' if you can call it that...is safe with me. Anyway...if you wanna talk more about this thats fine. But I need to get back to the Firehouse. I'll be pissed if I miss a good emergency. And you don't want to continue this convo with me when im pissed."
"Of course not," Uzal nods serenely. "I would hardly wish to keep you from an emergency." His lips curl just a bit in an amused smirk. He stands up from the table, stretching. "I could say more about the virtues of rebellion, but that can wait for another day. Ta-ta." He waves with a friendly smirk (if one can be described as such) and heads off toward the lower level. He can't mosh, himself, with his dissonance restrictions, but he can /watch/...
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