2017-09-29: Something Else Entirely
- Log: Something Else Entirely
- Cast: Cassidy Cain, Kahm Yugh
- Where: Hotel Renais, November City
- Date: September 29, 2017
- Summary: Marcus Rider of Smith & Luio searches for one Cassidy Cain in November City, following a string of rumors and half-truths to Hotel Renais just as the woman herself is returning from a brief trip to parts unknown.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
A name could go a long way in November City, but words and deeds went farther still. Kahm Yugh had not learned the name of the woman who had assisted him during the battle at the unearthed guardian temple, but there was much else he had learned. The color of her hair, the shape of her face, the particular manner in which she spoke. This combination of traits carried currency among the already semi-exclusive club of relic hunters, ruin explorers, and grave diggers otherwise known as drifters....provided you knew who to ask.
Knowing who to ask-and where to ask them-was one of the skills the Captain had to acquire in his time on the surface. His guess- that the woman had likely settled in November with the rest of the drifter crowd- had proven correct, and a string of questions in the adventurer's guild had progressively painted an increasingly patchwork quilt of infamy and half-truths to the woman's identity, along with her last known residence at the Hotel Renais. It was curious that someone this active had never come across any of the reports the other Gebler agents had made of activity on the surface. An unusual streak of good fortune, perhaps.
But all streaks must end, and the Captain sets foot in the Hotel Renais with a comfort he scarcely would've imagined for himself eight months ago, wearing his ensemble of freshly-pressed black hat, vest, and slacks like he was actually used to them. Eschewing the front desk, he proceeds instead to the adjoining bar, figuring to look for her there before asking any questions directly. Good as he is, the man's movement and methods would betray him to an eye trained in the spyworks of Shevat: His movements are too sharp, his eyes too wary. There was a military edge to the man that no length of life on the rough and tumble frontier of Ignas could dispel. Not that it meant anything specific, other than that he was no run-of-the-mill privateer.
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
An unusual streak of good fortune, or something else entirely.
Perhaps a little bit of both.
The last word Kahm Yugh would have managed to procure about the woman was that while she has settled in November City, she has been away for some time, though upon further investigation, some would indicate that they believe that she would return, as rumors have it that she has a few close associates active in the area, and she attracts enough trouble that she would want to keep abreast of those resources. Still, should he enter the Hotel and make his inquiries at the bar, it will confirm what a man such as he would already suspect; the woman has been gone, but she has left what meager belongings she has in her suite, having paid in full for the duration of her stay. The man is confident that she will be back.
Not only has she slipped through the cracks in Gebler's reports, she also seems to be well-funded. Either that, or she is independently wealthy for a Drifter, being able to pay for her room for such a duration in advance.
And speak of the devil, she arrives.
Taller than the average woman, she is a slim figure with pale-gold hair and mischievous green eyes shot with golden fragments that match her smile, all signs screaming the kind of trouble most Drifters tend to expect from someone so notorious. But while striking, she doesn't dress like a seductress; her shirt is longsleeved and tailored from red cotton, to try and offset the oppressive heat of the Badlands, donned with leather breeches and boots. She is clearly armed, and makes no effort to hide it, with two pistols on each hip as well as some manner of blade in a scabbard, as long as a knife. Her strides are confident, but gradual. Either she is in no hurry, or she is recovering from a long ride as such that she needs time to alleviate the stiffness in her muscles.
Perhaps why she is at the bar, instead of going straight to her suite; to lubricate such aches and pains with liquor. An easy smile curls on her lips, Cassidy props an elbow on the counter, a palm cradling her chin. "Bobby," she cooes. "Did you miss me?"
"I don't miss stingy tippers," the bartender says, blandly.
"You say the sweetest things."
But she retrieves her drink - a whiskey neat, deft fingers plucking the tumbler off the wooden surface and turning so she could regard the room. Upon moving, however, Marcus' familiar visage catches her attention, though she doesn't seem to quite place him as those eyes narrow faintly in a squint.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Upon learning what he could from the bartender, Kahm had elected to take a seat at the bar and keep a seldom-moving vigil for the woman's arrival. Given all he had heard along the way here, it seemed likely she would stop by before head into her room. In that brief span of time he considered the facts as they stood: A uncommon amount of wealth paired with an unusually itinerant lifestyle, and dangerous pursuits. Not common traits to find in a drifter...but then, he'd also met Maya Schrodinger once upon a time. More than one well-off family could produce a black sheep.
The blonde's casual arrival dissipates those idle musings. Kahm tilted his eye only vaguely to the side to catch view of her, sipping a glass of water while she and the bartender traded in casual chatter. By appearances alone she was an uncommon woman for a surface dweller surely, but her dress and weapons suggested a favor towards rugged practicality over whatever natural charms she'd been endowed with. The Captain was likely in no measure of the Bartender's good graces himself for having only water while he waited, being perhaps why the man pays Kahm no mind whatsoever as he began preparing Cassidy's order.
"You're not an easy woman to find, Miss Cain." He says once he feels her eyes peering on him, placing his hat on the bar and turning sideways on the stool to face her. "Marcus Rider. We've been acquainted." He speaks to the recognition glimmering in her eyes, and perhaps this will be enough to point her memory in the right direction. "Long ride?" The man inquires, perhaps noting the tilt of her posture or some other small detail. There it was again, that constant sense of low-grade awareness.
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
You're not an easy woman to find, Miss Cain.
"A handy trick, that," replies the blonde, flashing Marcus an easy smile. "Keeps the incapable away, and weeds out those who want tae find me from the ones that need tae find me. Seeing that you came all this way, I'm making a guess that you're the latter."
Cassidy inclines her head, lashes tugging low over her eyes. She has not heard the name Marcus Rider before, but he confirms that her sense of familiarity is not a trick from a weary mind and an exhausted body, and that is enough to trigger memories regarding the Guardian Temple. "Ay, I remember now. Doubly surprising, then, as said acquaintanceship was verra brief and involved more fighting than I'm comfortable with. Nae very good at direct conflict, you see. More of a lover than a fighter."
She takes a quiet sip of her whiskey. His observance of her present state has her lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "That's one of the things I hate the most about the Badlands. Nae anything out here but endless sands and stretches of it in between points of civilization."
The blonde leans further into the counter, an arm draped casually along the length of it. "So, Marcus. Why did you need tae find me? Did I drop a glass slipper in the temple that lured you into my general direction?" Those visible notes of mischief become all the more pronounced over the line of her mouth.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
"Or that I'm just particularly determined." Marcus offers his words casually, seemingly relaxed in posture against the side of the bar as he has another drink from his water. In actuality this was a mild ruse- his eye found an excuse to sweep over the bar's entrance every thirty seconds or so, watchful of other arrivals. "In my line of work, it's often necessary to assess many details in a short amount of time. But for one not comfortable with combat, you acquitted yourself well. The enemy was simply of a higher order."
It was a simple statement, one that contained much of Kahm's personal methods at it's core, concerned only with the realities of a matter and little enough time spent on reflection, doubt, and turmoil over what it all meant. On the subject of the Badlands he nodded his head, "Mm. It's not nearly as friendly as the Adlehyde's ranchlands. That's life here on the hinterlands. I may actually need to buy a horse while I stay here."
He'd looked, in fact. But he was pretty sure the man he spoke to was prepared to cheat him for looking like a city-dresser. He might have to leverage the Black Ties to get a fair deal, ironically.
Kahm's next look at her was measured and neutral in it's conveyance in comparison to Cassidy's devilish smile. Plays of tone with him were akin to dancing around a morosely inert rock, but he didn't do much at her suggestion beyond shrug. "I'm here because you displayed yourself as capable, and I find it advantageous to know capable people. Particularly in new environs like these." He said, and lifted a hand in precaution. "I'm not trying to hire or enlist you in any half-cocked sojourns. But I would be interested to hear about certain things. Unusual things."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
A hand lifts to press the rim of her tumbler against her lips, Cassidy's eyes falling on the rich amber liquid swirling at the bottom of her glass, watching its color in a manner that is almost pensive. There's a glance towards him, at his sip of water and the surreptitious way he takes stock of who come and go at the bar, though if she notices, she doesn't make any mention of it. It brings a slight twinge of discomfort in her stomach, because now that he is close and speaking to her, she can determine the telltale signs; shades of an old life that she thought she has killed coming back to haunt her.
Despite his military bearing, it doesn't come across as an unusual choice to her - many outfits make the same mistake. Soldiers tend to be easy choices for espionage, if not just because handlers are immediately assured that they are capable in the more martial aspects of the work. It is not an unreasonable conclusion, but it is still a mistake. She knows better.
She knows because...
There's a laugh, and it's genuinely appreciative, her head canting sideways towards Marcus. "I can hold my own against common bandits," she tells him. "But Metal Demons are an entirely different story." Not entirely a lie, considering how difficult it is to really engage one of them, but she has a knack for turning things around in spite of circumstances that begin poorly for her. "But I'm glad you think I can cut it with the big boys. As for horses, I s'pose if you're nae practiced in combat either, you're going tae get more practice than you can shake your bloody stick at in short order. Horses are necessary, ay, but they're also extremely valuable around these parts so dinnae be surprised if you get jumped for it."
He eventually gets to the heart of the matter and she takes another sip of her whiskey. "Ay? What kind of unusual things? Metal Demons rampaging around the Guardian Temple is unusual enough, but you were there for that. So I'm curious as tae what you think fits your definition of unusual."
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
It's true enough-good soldiers did not make good spies. That alone was enough to flush Kahm out to anyone truly acquainted in the arts of espionage. If he was good at any of it, it was because he hard learned to be good at it with same dogged, workman-like persistence that made him a commendable soldier. In the end, however, a square peg could only fit so well into a round hole.
"I've noticed." He responds on the danger of horse ownership, the levity in his voice as close as the man might come cracking something like sarcasm, daresay humor. "Law and order goes for little in these areas. It's a harder land than the sort many of the refugees are used to. Fortunately, I can take care of my own."
Even so, it was a good point- a horse may bring more attention than he cares to have on himself, the alternative being to shift around in caravans and foot travel for most of his work-hardly desirable. He'd have to think on it yet longer.
"The demons are always notable when they act, but no. I'm interested in a subtler threat." Kahm said, setting his glass on the table and staring at it a moment with placidly blue eyes. "Let's call them Outliers, for now. People who can do things they should not, conventionally speaking, be able to do. That don't make sense. You could consider that cult an example- the goddess worshipers." He offered, referring by to Althena's Guard. "But there are others. It's likely they slipped over the border along with the other drifters and refugee trains, walking among them and seeming no different from others under the most usual of circumstances. Not until something happens."
He turns then to Cassidy. "I ought to mention by this point that i'm an employee of the Smith & Luio Agency. I'd like to keep a sense of order in these parts, and these Outliers- not to mention the demons- undermine it."
That was a tell, if nothing else. Smith & Luio was well-known agency throughout region, providing everything from armed guards to VIPs and high-paying caravans to private investigators looking into matters for clients of means. They were consummate professionals, and many of their members were known to have been military, at some point. Few enough knew whom they truly represented, and what their involvement anywhere meant.
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
"The goddess wor-- " There is a pause. "Ay, right. The Moon People with their Moon Cancer." Amusement twitches on the corner of her lips. "Have it on good authority from a drinking buddy that their goddess dinnae much care for fun and the influx of them over here brought their Moon Cancer over - Malevolence or whatever. Sommat. Nae the kind tae pay attention tae much of the hocus pocus unless it tends tae involve me and my hide in some way, but ay. I ken who you are referring tae."
There's a glance towards Bobby, on the other side of the bar. As casual as can be, she reaches behind the bar, to pull out the entire bottle of whiskey so she can refill her glass.
"I've been a Drifter for a decade, luv," Cassidy remarks, returning her attention to her drink and taking a quiet sip. "If that's your criteria for the strange and unusual, you're going tae find many a strange and unusual folk around these parts. Especially the Badlands." His allegiance to Smith & Luio does explain why he carries himself the way he does, but she is often under the impression that their inquiries depended on the job, and the query is not so specific to point to one project. If nothing else, the search parameters are rather broad.
"Are you looking for any specific Outlier, or just any weirdo with strange talents disturbing the peace?" she wonders.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
"Desperation and a charismatic voice will lead a man to believe many a thing with disruptive." Kahm reflected, dipping his head to the wisdom of Cassidy's unnamed drinking partner. "Even that he comes from the moon, apparently." It rather neatly summed up his enduring opinion on the so-called Lunarians, though the plague they had brought them certainly belied conventional explanations.
"There's been a noted uptick in incidents since the destruction of Lahan, yes." Kahm admitted, his memory briefly flitting back to his first sojourn to that ruined place and the hunt that followed. Who would have thought so much trouble could bloom from the burning of one -lamb- settlement? Cassidy isn't wrong that Smith & Luio agents are generally put to more specific tasks than the one the Captain has outlined for himself, but he's decidedly mum about the nature of his assignment. Perhaps this is just his hobby.
"A few come to mind." He said, tipping his glass to Bobby for another refill of water as he proceeded through a list. "Fei Fong Wong, the man who destroyed Lahan and remains at large. Ethius Hesiod, an unusually tall man of few words, known for destroying lost technology with strange abilities. There was another I'd heard of recently, a man who could create illusions and had strange eyes. He attacked a woman and left her in a sorry state."
Kahm rattled each scenario off like they were prepared beforehand, never deviating from Cassidy's face while he spoke. "If you've been a drifter for that long, I'm sure you've a sense for distinguishing run-of-the-mill strange from the truly potent isolates. That's what I'm looking for."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
"Is that right?" Cassidy tilts her head towards Marcus. "What about Vash the Stampede? The biggest bounty on the planet, I heard, leads a wake of destruction at every turn whenever he shows up. You're nae interested in him?" She tilts her glass slightly sideways, to watch golden liquid caress the crystal, though no matter how much she smiles, the rest of her expression reflects an absent, almost languid bent, as if he had just roused her from a deep sleep.
The other names don't ring a bell, save for the first being splashed across some wanted posters. "Methinks I've seen a bounty poster with his name on it, this Wong," she continues. "Hopefully you dinnae get hired by any of the insurance companies handling those areas, though it would certainly make sense that they would hire investigators, ay? Anything tae make sure they dinnae pay up more of the claims than necessary? Never heard of this Hesiod guy either, but if that's a person of interest, I'm nae opposed tae sending you a feeler or two for the right price."
After another pull from her drink, she turns to finally face Marcus fully, leaning the curve of her hip against the counter. "The last one sounds pretty vicious," she says. "He a symbologist? Sounds like a powerful serial killer in the making, that. Maybe you've heard stories about merciless motherfookers killing women of the night in so-called points of civilization around here, so it's nae unheard of. Take it the victim survived?" Military men were precise, and if the victim had died, he would have just said so. "She must be a tough one, surviving the likes of that. I heard it takes a very strong mind tae keep one's head when you're made tae see sommat that's nae there."
There's a smile at the last. "Ay, well. Hopefully you're nae wrong about that. You know what people say about assumptions. But if that's all you need, I'm nae opposed tae keeping an eye out for you, but nae for free."
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
It was rather curious that with all Kahm's talk about outliers and strange persons he'd neglected to mention the Humanoid Typhoon, wasn't it? Well, maybe there were some things so obviously you simply didn't need to mention them, like the sun shining or the birds singing or -lambs- making ceaseless bloodshed and ruin upon the land. "Vash the Stampede is another department's concern entirely." He answers, his tone grateful enough to suggest he's quite glad there was at least one walking disaster in the world that wasn't on him to deal with. "But if I happen to come across him, well..." He spoke while shoulders slowly shrugged. "I'd at least be obliged to report it."
"You might have seen Wong's face, certainly. He was coined as the village vandal, but it seems the title didn't stick." Kahm commented, resigned to the knowledge that the surface dwellers were afflicted with an all-too short memory-and even then, it wasn't as if Lahan had been anything more more one hamlet among hundreds. "I'd appreciate hearing of anything you happen to learn-or hear-of him or Hesiod."
The most mysterious man he'd mentioned becomes the subject of Cassidy's next question, but he was also the one the Captain knew the least about. "The woman he attacked was a soldier, which suggests he's not in the habit of picking innocent victims as killers are wont to do. That or he's a poor judge of his prey." He said, nodding at her question. "Badly beaten, but still able to walk around and talk about the matter. Her name is Lily Keil. Like I said, she's had training. I don't know enough about him to venture more, but illusions would be an uncommon use of symbology. Beyond his blue eyes, that's all I know."
She accepts the deal-for a price, of course. Kahm nodded knowingly, expecting nothing less, "You'll be duly compensated for any information you can provide of course, according to it's relevant value."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
If she shows any curiosity over that little aside about Vash, there is absolutely no indication on the blonde conwoman's face. There's a hint of a grin. "Well, are you nae a lucky bastard?" she says with a laugh. "If I got that assignment, I'd be turning in my bloody two weeks' notice, or find some ridiculous way tae get myself fired before I'm obliged tae track that bounty down. It's a shite ton of gella, mind, enough tae even turn the head of the likes of me, but there's just some trouble that's nae worth it and I think he's one of them." There's another pull of her whiskey at that. "Ay, well, do what you have tae in order tae keep your hands clean from that mess. I heard sommat about him being singlehandedly responsible for driving a bunch of insurance companies tae bankruptcy."
A set of fingers lift up and down in a wave regarding Wong and Hesiod. "Right, I'll keep that in mind and reach out." She doesn't even bother negotiating, if nothing else proving herself a veteran in transactions such as these - getting to the table often entails having something the other person wants, and at the present moment, she has no information to offer for either, and asking for a deposit will only obligate her into seeking such information out, and she isn't quite certain as of yet if doing so is worth the trouble. One of the beautiful things about having a sizeable nest egg is that she can pick and choose what jobs she undertakes. Money, after all, is just one of the many tools in her arsenal that guarantees her extensive freedom to operate.
She doesn't even pause from drinking her whiskey when he mentions that the blue-eyed killer has managed to attack Lily Keil, a familiar name, but one wouldn't divine it from the look of her. "Sounds like he's been trained in turn, then," the thief tells Kahm, a germ of a suspicion forming in the back of her mind. "If he's able tae fell someone trained in turn, though dinnae quote me on that, luv. Dinnae ken the capabilities of the woman, for all I ken she's nae been trained above the average. But I did hear sommat strange occurring in Lacour or thereabouts with a similar description. Stories at a bar - some traveling historian who overheard said sommat about how he went drinking with Kislevi soldiers and they hammered him with rumors about 'Gebler people'..." This she punctuates with a quote-endquote gesture with her fingers. "...being able tae use magic out of pure will." She inclines her head at Marcus curiously. "Think that might be the kind of trick your serial killer's utilizing?"
After a pause, she turns back to the bar, pouring another two shots of whiskey in her tumbler from the whiskey bottle she has casually pilfered from it. "Anyway, I would nae assume about him nae in the habit of picking innocent victims." That easy smile returns, giving him a sidelong look from under long lashes. "There's nae many innocent people, but I'm sure they exist, somewhere."
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
"Vash the Stampede's threat to property values and the public good are well-known at this point." said Kahm. "In that respect, he's not altogether different from the demons right now, or perhaps they to him." Forces of nature to be planned around and accounted for, but not enacted against-at least, not yet. Money was not a motivator for him, but even if it was, there was plenty of sense to be had in the adventuring woman's sentiment: Some paydays, no matter how big, just weren't worth the trouble.
Her next guess, that the man must've had some military training himself to overcome Keil with such ferocity, had been on his mind as well. Not only that, but considering what he'd read of Keil's abilities in reports, he'd have needed something match those powers as well. Even an untrained ether user like the Kislevi woman was unlikely to be taken in by cheap parlor tricks and mere symbol magic. "It's possible." He says at last, leaning his head in at the woman's mention of Lacour, his lips drooping into a frown as she recounted the historian's story. She was coming to those conclusions to easily for his liking, even if they were passed off as the stories of a rambling drunk.
But it also provided a convenient cover for his own slip of disapproval. "The Kislevi are a superstitious people. It doesn't surprise he'd have heard such drivel from them." Kahm said, shaking his head to seemingly dismiss the idea of 'Gebler magic' out of hand. Of course, Smith & Luio was based out of Bledavik, so one could hardly say he was unbiased on the matter, much as his company claimed to serve any paying client. "But it's true that I can't say who he's in the habit of attacking, or why. I'd have to hear from more of his victims, if he left any others to tell the tale."
He stared at his recently-filled glass of water. 'Gebler people', hm?
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
Emerald green irises lift to meet Kahm's again, searching his face and the look in his eyes as he speaks of Vash the Stampede, taking note of the way they move. "What a flattering thought," Cassidy says with a laugh. "Tae be equated as a force of nature. Ach, if only someone paid me such a compliment, I dinnae think I'd ever forget it." She presses her fingers to her chest, heaves a dramatic sigh. "Surely he'd be the man or woman of my dreams~..."
At his frown, the young woman lifts her shoulders in a light shrug. "Dinnae look at me like that, luv, personally I dinnae believe it either," she tells him, a hint of exasperation bleeding into her tone. "I deal with the tangible, like I told you before, nae so much for the hocus bloody pocus. Dinnae ken a god damn thing about magic except that dealing with most anyone who can wield it is usually too much trouble for me tae find a worthy investment in it."
His subtle derision regarding the Kislevi earns him another one of her very slight smiles. "Who kens, I've nae been tae Kislev in a verra long time." Injuries burn underneath her shirt. "Still, you ought tae start looking around Lacour then, if word could be believed. But if I come across anything more regarding your possibly strange magic-wielding blue-eyed serial killer, I'll send you a note."
Her glass tips against her lips, draining a small touch of the whiskey before continuing: "You're certain he's got more victims, then, other than Lily Keil, or is that an assumption?"
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
The man quirked an eye at Cassidy for that comment, but took her for having some measure of sarcasm. "Well, live long enough and I imagine most anything can happen. You're no doubt familiar enough if you've been doing what you do for ten years." Kahm said. That was a rather long time as the average lifespan of a drifter was reckoned, he imagined-most were either dead, retired, or strung out to plain old banditry by then, as far as he'd seen.
"That makes two of us then." He lifted his glass in a non-contact toast, finding more than a little smirk about in the woman's thoughts and attitude towards magic. As the land-dwellers practice it, such arts were a mysterious and esoteric force, governed at best by feeling and faith than by a fundamental understanding of the processes one evoke. Granted, he couldn't say everyone in Gebler's ranks were so enlightened, either...but they could at least be taught.
The face of Lieutenant Van Houten briefly flashed in his mind, and the Captain shook his head by the time Cassidy had begun asking about victims. "Keil's injuries." He muttered. "They were bandaged, but I could tell nonetheless. They were dealt by practiced hands, familiar in more than just combat, but in being ruthless, brutal. Men with that kind of violence in them don't appear out of nowhere. Beyond that...well, you could just call it instinct."
It was part of the job, after all. And Lacour was a long way from here now- there'd be other concerns to tend to before he went back across the desert hunting rumors. "I appreciate your willingness to help. Will I be able to find you here at the Renais for a while yet?
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
At the quirked brow, her smile turns somewhat helpless.
Was this man born without a sense of humor?
You're no doubt familiar enough, if you've been doing what you do for ten years.
She laughs. "You got me," the blonde tells him, lifting two fingers and making a pantomime of running legs with them. "You ken the secret tae longevity being a Drifter in Filgaia? Having nae any shame running away. Second secret? Being able tae run fast. And I run like the wind, luv. Especially when my hide's on the line."
Though he does exhibit some willingness to engage in camaraderie, when he lifts her glass in response to her remarks about magic. It earns him another one of those flashfire grins. "Ay, well, if there's nae any particular motive that Miss Keil can divine from her attack, and this is an assumption mind, dinnae ken what exactly she told you about it, it's a fair conclusion tae make. If he's the sort that gets his rocks off attacking women nae matter the stripe, chances are there are others. Anyway, I'll keep my eyes open, and once I've got sommat more substantial, we can get together for a fair exchange of goods."
His inquiries as to where she is staying has her waving a hand. "Ay, for a while yet. November City's as good enough of a home point as much as any in this god forsaken Hell-circle." Open distaste scours over this unabashed opinion of the Badlands. Reaching over the counter, she takes an order pad and a stylus - no respect given, it seems, to anyone's personal belongings - to write down her room number and the best time to call upon her with a flourishing, feminine script, the mark of, at the very least, an educated hand, before ripping the sheet off the rest, folding it neatly and handing it to Marcus.
"Now before you leave me, color me curious," Cassidy remarks. "It's been weeks since the Guardian Temple. What exactly made you think of me that you'd come all the way here tae find me?"
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Either born without one, or something close to it. Even those who had served alongside Kahm for a long amount of time could count the occasions he'd spared a smile on their fingers, much less cracked a joke.
"Knowing when not to fight isn't highly valued by most these days, but it's an indispensable skill." He said, acquiring something of the woman's mien in his head. He could count on her assistance while it suited her no doubt, but as soon as anything become too complicated- or too dangerous- it'd be like she was never even there. A woman accustomed to picking up everything and running at a moment's need or provocation. A woman on the run.
What is she running from? Kahm wondered, finishing his glass of water and declining a refill.
"I appreciate it. If you've got anything for me, you can leave it in the care of the branch office up the street. They'll ensure it gets to me, or if you need to make contact for some reason they can arrange that as well. I'll see to it you're not questioned overmuch." The man promised, reasoning November City made as good as base of operation as any for the both of them right now. He casually took the slip of paper with her contact information written on it and discretely placed within the folds of his jacket, like nothing unusual.
From there, he begins to stand and make ready to leave until her last question gives him pause. It was a pertinent one, he supposed- and deserving of an answer. "Nothing in particular to tell the truth, other than what happened at the temple. I'd planned to look for you afterwards immediately, but was caught up in other events. Today I finally had the time." He said, as if he could seek a stranger out of nowhere whenever it befit him. "The fact that we were both in November City was a coincidence, but I'd have sought you out whether you were in Lacour or Port Timothy. Don't underestimate us."
By 'us', he surely meant Smith & Luio, yes? Either way, he took up his coat and stepped out the door with one more regarding look. "Stay fast on your feet, Miss Cain. I'd hate for anyone to catch up to you after going to this much trouble."
And then he was gone.
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
What is she running from?
I'll see to it that you're not questioned overmuch.
"That's verra kind of you, luv, but I'm nae opposed tae a chat most days," Cassidy says, lips parting to bare her teeth in a smile that cuts like a knife, nothing but easy confidence on her pale features, the promise of mischief in her eyes. "Your people can question me as much as they like. Just dinnae blame me if you receive the complaints following. I've been told I dinnae ken when tae shut up when I need tae."
Marcus, at least, obliges her with an answer to her question, and there's another laugh. "Well, I may nae be as terrible of a force of nature as Vash the Stampede is," she tells him. "But that is flattering all the same, that I made such an impression."
Don't underestimate us.
Her smile widens at that. Her lashes lower, the shadows cast by them darkening the color of those eyes and making those golden shards within glitter like scattered sunlight. "Dinnae worry," she tells him simply. "I dinnae put anything past anyone, lad. Have a good evening."
She remains smiling at his departure, but once he has vanished through the double-doors of the bar, levity gives way to a contemplative expression, mentally running down her calculations. The act reminds her of the life she has left behind a decade ago, but these cursed skills remain, drilled so deeply in the marrow of her bones that they've become second nature. The tally starts with those casual but furtive glances around the bar, like clockwork, how he followed her leading questions. The overt threat about not underestimating his outfit, and the subtler one - his conclusion about people catching up to her, and the implications of that statement...of figuring out that much in such a brief conversation.
But the greatest tell had been the way he answered her questions about Vash the Stampede, and the instinctive slide of his eyes to the right.
"Oh, ay," she murmurs, once he is long gone, taking another sip of her whiskey.
"I dinnae put anything past anyone."