OoC: I've got some terrible Writer's Block lately...like I have ideas, but they disappear when I sit down to write, or I just can't articulate them. Sorry that this particular post is just another churned out to move things along, but...at least things are moving along? <____<;; It gets a little better in the second half.

IC:
What was it that Vivace used to say? Go with the flow of things--let the other person think they're in control for a little while. And that was supposed to give you some sort of advantage, wasn't it? They thought they had control, but they needed you more than you needed them, and you could always just walk out, right? Arietta crossed her arms, sighed, and sat down. She'd give this a try.

"You called this meeting..." she said smoothly as she waved over a waiter and plucked the glass of wine he was carrying to another customer out of his hands. The man blinked once, twice, and was about to say something when he realized that the gypsy had already taken a sip--and so grumbling and defeated, he hurried off to the kitchen before he could feel his tip money starting to drop down into the negatives. Arietta could see the cloaked figure's head turn to follow the waiter's movements for a second, thought she heard a stifled laugh, and smiled. "...So you should start," she finished, just loudly enough to catch his attention again.

Her green sunglasses gleamed in the lamplight as she flashed the young man another enigmatic smile and waited for him to speak.

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God, that smile made her melt inside. She felt like a little pad of butter on a warm, fluffy biscuit...with...with a bead of sunshine beaming down on her, and well...how could anyone say no?

"Of course I want to help," Tracey answered, glancing up from the map to return the smile. Behind that smile, however, was a little part of the detective's brain that was more than just a little confused. The marking, shaped like a small blue snowflake, looked about as out of place as a snowman in hell where it was--and it basically was in hell, all things considered. If this map was right, then this base they were heading towards was located in the heart of the Ceguera que Quema (as an old police partner once translated for her, the "Blindness that Burns") Desert--the hottest desert in all of Rubato, next to the Pé del Fuego. Stories came back of bandits who'd escaped from the cops in the golden sands of the desert, only to have their bleached bones found cooked and, some said, nearly evaporated by search parties and vultures the next day, as much as that defied facts about decaying. It was a place where even science was dried out, confused, and suffering from a near-heatstroke in a matter of hours.

Of course, there were also the stories of ancient limestone caverns being found under the sands in the Ceguera que Quema, left over from eons ago when the deserts of Rubato were oceans and the tides teemed with coral and other marine life. The oceans were said to have dried up over time, and remains had hardened over centuries to form these old caves, some of which got down so far as below freezing during the day because they got little to no sunlight through the heavy blankets of sand piled over top of them. Was it possible that "The Avenger" had found one of these caverns and made it his base of operations? Well...it was hard to believe, but things certainly seemed that way.

"This marking is near the center of the desert just east of here," Tracey finally announced, folding the map up. "It's going to be really really hot, so...we better get some supplies and make sure someone who can rescue us knows where we've gone before we head out. I can send word back to one of the police captains, if you'd like."

The detective was so absorbed in the conversation and in her own mental preparations for the trek that she completely missed hearing the flap of dragon wings somewhere overhead. By the time she blinked again, the reptilian figure was gone again, hidden somewhere in the maze that was the streets of Agra.

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[A timid shapeshifter with an unexpected, inner wolf "side".]
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