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March 30 , 2004 | |
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Academy of Magic, Hall...
Demeter nods very seriously. "I couldn't cast when I started. Had a *huge* block."
Loki nods, "Yeah, I can only do very basic things. Light cigarettes and make the wind blow.. That type of thing."
A grim looking solder clunks down the hallway from the direction of the runed archway. He makes obvious not of Demeter and Loki, seemingly sizing up the pair. With a nod to the younger guard who stands watch in the Hall, the two exchange places.
Demeter chuckles. "More than I could do. I could gather the energy. I just couldn't release it. Scott used to tell me I thought about it too much that it wasn't something you had to *do* as much as let happen." She rolls her eyes. "Like that was helpful. I couldn't figure out how to relax either. Learning to conjure really helped."
Loki glances at the guards, then says. "Yeah, I would like to learn that too." he nods and then looks back to the guards. "Any chance that they might be able to tell me that lady's name? Think they would know?"
Demeter shrugs. "How would I know. She's not someone I've run into enough to recognize by your description. You coudl try."
Loki smirks, "Good point." he holds up a finger, "Let me talk to one of them real quick, and then perhaps I could buy you a drink?"
The gruff soldier crosses his arms over his chest and grunts.
Demeter grins and gestures towards the guard. "Be my guest."
The younger guard wastes no time exiting down the long, arched hallway. Perhaps making for his shift break.
Loki turns around, taking one step towards the guard. "Excuse me." he calls out the the man.
He is burly, this man. Aged and weathered as evidence by the wrinkles about his eyes. They narrow as Loki nears and his jaw works slowly. "Aye," is his only response.
Demeter watches the interchange with interest. She's moved near enough to overhear.
Loki smiles at the man, "I have a question for you, you see." he looks around, "I met this woman, the other day. She supposedly frequents here, but I can't for the life of me remember her name."
Demeter moves in closer and smiles expectantly at the guard.
The man raises a single, bushy eyebrow. He dosen't respond, perhaps expecting Loki to continue.
Loki does continue, "She was about yey tall." he wavers his hand somewhere around his head, "Auburn hair.. nice skin, deep eyes." he rolls his hand. "I am sure there are plenty of thoes types in the halls around here, but I think she would stand out. Supposedly she is very good.. Do you have /any/ idea what her name is?"
With a shift of his weight the guard repeats with a low throaty grumble, "... very good." A smirk plays at the corner of his thin dry lips, "Aye, reminds me ah plently lasses, lad."
Demeter notes, dryly, "Well, you could help narrow the field down a bit by mentioning some names."
Loki nods, "Yeah, yeah I know. I am sure there are alot, but I don't think there are as many who are . . as good, with magic." he considers, "Yeah. That would help alot."
Demeter sighs, murmuring to herself, "Scott would know. A lot easier than this."
The guard gives Demeter a disconcerting glare. Almost as if he is just as annoyed with the pair as they are with his nonresponsiveness. "Well... there is a young auburn haired lass who fashions herself something of an enchanter at this school. " He lowers his chin and mutters, "But then again, I'm not much for judging talent. Name's Dawne."
Loki shakes his head, "Naw I know her. Thats not it." he asks, "Anyone else?" He puts his hands on his hips.
"Well, there is the woman from last night... though she's not a student here."
Demeter looks to Loki. "Is she a student here?"
Loki hmms, "I don't think so. I think she just more spends time here." he ponders this, "Whats her name anyway?"
He considers this for a long moment. No rush. He reaches a hand to his chin and rubs there thoughtfully, "... yeah. Yosannah is the lady's name. Came here last night with a young blonde woman."
Demeter hrms. "Young blonde woman?" She shakes her head. "Great security we have here."
Loki nods, "Yeah no joke." he smirks, that backwards at least.
Demeter chuckles.
The soldier slides his hand absent-mindedly to the hilt of his sword, eyes going narrow and regarding the girl, "I don't question this one. She comes and goes as she pleases." He adds, more for the girl's benefit then for justification of his actions, "As do those that accompany her."
Loki blinks, "Who goes and comes as she pleases, the auburn haird one or the blonde one?"
Demeter's eyes narrow down upon the guard. "Don't get pissy with me buddy. I sleep with the Headmaster."
Loki glances backwards, "So you know him, very, well.."
Demeter shrugs at Loki. "He's my husband. Yeah."
Loki ahhhs, he looks back to the guard.
The guard scawfs. Disinterested in the girl's retort.
Loki glances at the guard, "Look man, this is very important.. What one comes and goes as she pleases. The auburn or blonde?"
Demeter rolls her eyes. "You know, next time I'm coming back with a great big button pinned to my chest that says suck up to me I know important people."
The soldier's fingers work around the sword hilt, flexing and relaxing, "Yosannah, of course. As I indicated, I do not know the lass she was with, nor have I seen her before last night."
Loki nods, "Alright." he smiles, "Any chance you can tell me where I can find some info on this blonde?"
Demeter leans a little closer to Loki. "They don't have more fun, for one thing."
"No."
Loki ahhs, "Thats good to know." he grins at Demeter, then back to the Guard. "I will just have to ask Yosannah next time I see her." he smiles at the guard, "Thanks alot man, I will remember to not forget her name now."
Demeter pats a pocket, growing thoughtful. "Hrm. Red head.. and a blonde...No, not likely."
Loki spins around, "Buy you a drink now?" he dismisses the guard.
The burly man simply nods and, comversation seemingly over, returns his arms across his chest and waits for the pair to depart.
Meanwhile, at the Gideon Club Study...
Yosannah is sitting at the bar with a newspaper sprawled out before her. She rests her temple agains ta fisted hand and clutches a pencil in the fingers of her other hand. Hair in her face, she slides her gaze in Paul's direction, peering through auburn waves.
Paul is the kind of man that draws attention easily - be it from height and build, pink hair, or the curious ornament of a sword in a land where guns rule hidden beneath the long duster coat he wears. Today there's the added curiosity of a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, give the man the appearance of a transient. "Boun Giorno."
There is no return greeting. Rather, she lifts the pencil to her teeth, rapping lightly with the eraser, "I need a seven letter word for..." she looks down at the paper, "... auther of Angry Candy."
Paul scratches his chin whiskers as he approaches the woman. "Ellison." He swings the duffel bag onto the bar near her paper.
Yosannah nods, slowly at first and then begins to scribble, "... of course. Why couldn't I remember that."
Paul shrugs. "It was only worth reading for 'Paladin of a lost hour,' really."
Yosannah sets the pencil aside, tucks her hair behind her ear, returns her cap to her head and reclines in her stool. "Hu. I'll have to take your word. So..." She purses her lips and nods, "What do I owe the pleasure."
Paul settles onto a stool of his own. "I was looking to return some things of Mr. Stone's that...uh...I found." He gestures to the bag.
"Found?"
Paul nods a single nod. "Si."
Yosannah raises a brow, "Where?"
Paul gestures, vaguely.
Yosannah seemingly tired of asking questions already, she leans foward as if she might peer into the backpack.
Paul doesn't stop her. Instead he pulls out a cigarette from his coat and lights it. "You can give this stuff back to him, right?"
Yosannah rifles through the items: a sword, some badges, a pendant, "I suppose so..." And then, "You steal this from him?"
Paul says "If I stole it, don't you think I could find something better than a few old badges?""
Yosannah appears dubious about the entire affair, "Got me. Maybe you aren't that good of a thief."
Yosannah waves a hand over the bag, fingers flitting in something resembling rune writing.
Paul watches her fingers, curiously. "I'm not a thief, so that's a good assumption."
Casting complete, she peers back inside the bag, "... hmmm. Curious." And then, "So."
Paul takes a puff on his cigarette. "So."
Yosannah's eyes roll upward, "Come on. Where's this come from?"
Paul says "A room in this club."
Yosannah slides the backpack aside, "Okay, back up. How, where and why. No begin at the beginning."
Paul blows smoke. "All you need to know is that they belong to Stone."
Yosannah shakes her head once and turns back to her paper. She picks up her pencil and resumes the position he found her in when he arrived. Temple against her fist.
Paul nods. "Take it easy." He heads out the way he came in.