[Round 1] Unfortunate Fortunes (Set Six)

[LadyElvenarcher]

OoC: Here's the thread. ^_^ The title was the first thing that popped into my head. Blah.

IC:

The whole place smelled like wet sheep and mold. Len couldn’t understand how anybody made this place habitable, yet the gypsy sitting across the little wooden table from her did. A crystal sphere sat between them—More like glass. If that’s genuine crystal, I’m a nun—and the gypsy hovered her gnarled, ancient hands over it. Narrowing her eyes, Len tapped two fingers impatiently upon the table. She’s praying to a lump of glass. Why am I looking for information from a woman who thinks rocks are connected to the spirit world and can tell her things?

The gypsy didn’t move for what seemed an eternity. Len ran her eyes up and down the figure locked into deep concentration. “Hey, do you think you could hurry this up a little? I just want to know what you can tell me about Baron Heilker. The others in your caravan say you worked for him for—”

“Quiet, young whelp!” The fortune-teller’s eyes snapped open with a vengeance, and she slapped Len’s extended hand back down into her lap. The woman’s half-crazed, bloodshot eyes bored into Len’s, eventually causing the assassin to drop her gaze—something Len wasn’t used to doing. With a low hiss, the gypsy spoke again. “The spirits are slow in speaking tonight. I need complete silence to hear them!” Without another word, the woman resumed her former position and demeanor.

Len rolled her eyes and leaned back into her chair, trying to make it more comfortable than it ever would be by any stretch of the imagination. Gisella Rubirum was her only lead on this particular job. According to Len’s sources, Gisella had once served as a nursemaid in the Heilker household but had been released from the position upon the discovery that she was addicted to the ample supply of Airan’s Ale the family kept stored in the cellar. An alcoholic fortune-teller. Now, there’s an unusual combination. Another roll of the eyes.

Gisella now made her home with this band of gypsies, acting as their resident supernatural specialist. They called her the Farseeing One. Again, such originality. Len had hoped the woman could at least point her in a useful direction. Instead, Gisella had insisted on doing a reading for Len—an utter waste of time, in the assassin’s opinion. This couldn’t be over fast enough.

Gisella suddenly sprang onto the table, knocking the glass ball onto the floor. She didn’t seem to care that it nearly shattered upon coming to a sharp stop against the wall of her crude dwelling. Repulsed, Len drew away from Gisella, but the gypsy woman cracked a yellowed, gap-toothed grin. “I have seen your future!” she proclaimed proudly.

Len smirked. “I highly doubt that, but just for curiosity’s sake, what have you seen?”

Gisella crawled closer to Len over the table, drilling the assassin with a knowing stare. “I would beware of males if I were you.”

A glint shone in Len’s eyes. “I’m always wary of men. You should be out there telling them to beware of me before they invite me into their beds.” Grinning dangerously at the gypsy, Len pushed back her chair and stood. “Clearly, you have nothing of importance to offer me.” Without a backwards glance, Len pushed back the curtain serving as a door for the dwelling, stepped out into the night, and stalked lithely into the surrounding forest.

She hadn’t gone far before the faint sound of nearby footsteps floated to her. As her defensive senses immediately triggered, she unsheathed Stille and Hemel and ducked behind a thick oak to observe the forest. Unfortunately, the moment she acted, the footsteps stopped. Cursing to herself, Len crouched low and waited, her daggers held ready. Whatever was following her had no idea who it was dealing with.

[Chozo]

Ugh fine guys I'll post.

--

The soothing sounds of the night forest surrounded the foxfolk Latio, who had been taking a break from the adventures the Dome was throwing at him. From the tree he was resting on, he could hear an owl hooting overhead. It drated down at a mouse scurrying across the ground, making no other sound besides a triumphant hoot over it's capture. It squeezed the rodent just enough to get it to stop breathing, as the mouse squeeked in terror, before releasing a final peep before dieing. Guess there's nowhere you can completely avoid death, the foxfolk thought as he heard the mouse's spine crack quietly. Well it's better than--

He was interrupted midthought by a violent thumping, as if a heavy ball struck wood, followed by a heavily accented, or possibly drunken fit of shouting: "I have seen your future!"

Curiosity peaking, Latio sharpened his hearing, and could make out a second, far more intelligent, cold voice. "I highly doubt that, but just for curiosity’s sake, what have you seen?" The drunken voice muttered something too quietly for the foxfolk to hear, but the sharp lady responded with a remark about the drunk's services being of no use.

This sounds interesting the gray fox decided, darting rather quickly toward where the conflict came from, not risking to lose the cold-sounding lady before she wandered off. He slowed to a quiet walk. A shuffling was heard around a nearby tree, outside a cabin where it could be assumed the conflict. The whistling of unsheathing blades was heard by the fox's keen ears, and Latio sheathed his claws and forearms in biometal, preparing to counterattack.

She'll attack first. I'm sure of it. No need to fight at a disadvantage.