Her high heeled shoes resounded against the stone path leading up to her home, reaching for her keys to let herself in. She let out a gust of a sigh, just wanting to sink into a hot bath with a glass of scotch and a cigarette to soak away the two weeks worth of stress that had built in her. It had just been insane with the amount of negotiating she had been having to do for contracts and to replace the amount of income she had been earning versus what she had lost from the contract in Ala Mhigo. Her brother had gotten wind that she was in Gridania and had been asking about Myrriah...and she still had the bruises from that confrontation on her arms and back.
Nearly a half dozen times she felt she had been watched in her travels or was being followed. She had taken multiple different ways home -- even tonight, she had taken the long way. A ward over was when the watchful, malevolent presence had disappeared and she still couldnāt pin point whom nor where it was coming from. She hadnāt mentioned it to anyone, considering she hadnāt seen enough of her friends lately to tell them.
Arik was in and out, busy with handling Vanguard missions and personal business. Saphyra was absent, off in the wilds of the Black Shroud and doing whatever it was that she did.Ā She knew Emeline had enough of her own problems to handle at the moment and she seemed far to absorbed into whatever issues she and Jun were having to even broach. Mafrea seemed to be as embezzled in whatever was happening with Jun as well. The last thing he needed was yet another problem laid at his feet.
There was no need to hit the hornetās nest, especially when they were already swarming over another crisis. She would handle her shit, as she always did. Rosette opened the door to her home and stood in the doorway, eyes widening and her mouth dropping open.
It looks like a hurricane had hit her apartment. Everything was upturned and tossed around, items broken and shard of glass all over the floor. The lights were out, only the light from the setting sun seeping in through the windows. She walked inward in a daze, looking at the broken furniture and drawers overturned on the floor. Her dining table was broken, her chairs and couches flipped, her plates were broken and shattered on the floor in the open kitchen.
She winced as a glass shard pierced the bottom of her sandals and she looked down, seeing the vase shards and flower petals beneath her feet. She pulled out the shard and started down the stairs to her living area.Ā
Once more, books were scattered everywhere and shards of glass from her fish tank were on the ground. The fish lay dead on the soaked carpet where they had fallen, bottles of liquor and wine smashed on the floor. Her bookshelves were emptied, her desk flipped and drawers rifled through. A quick peek into her bedroom and bath saw her clothes strewn everywhere and feathers all over the place from her down pillows. Her make up was scattered, mirror cracked, and plants ripped to shreds.
She reached down, picking up the now headless stuffed Namazu she had kept on her bedside table from where it had been tossed. She hugged it to her chest and turned, speechless as she slowly sank to the floor in middle of the living room. Confusion, fear, and the feeling of being exposed ripped through her.Ā
Rosette lowered her head, pressing her face into the stuffing protruding from the headless Namazu...and cried.
The gray light of dawn was just filtering in through the windows as Rosette started to wake. Her limbs felt heavy, her head felt foggy as she fought to open her eyes through the last vestiges of the sleep spell that Mafrea had hit her with before he had left. She had been dozing lightly just before, trying to stem off the dizziness and headache that came with using her own very miniscule aether manipulation abilities to halt Junās aetherflow.
She opened her eyes, looking at the semi-lit room. Her dreams had been plagued with an inky darkness that had flooded the room, threading its way up around Mafreaās limbs as he had taken a long drag of a cigar. The smoldering tip of it had been the only light in the room as the dripping shadows had hovered over him, a skeletal reaper with a long scythe dangling just over his left shoulder. The Thaumaturgeās skin had started to wither, become pockmarked in the ink that dripped from the creature hovering over him. She had tried to call out to him, to warn him...but her voice had been stolen as the darkness washed up over her and dragged her into the abyss.Ā
Then, wakefulness had started to creep in and drag her out of slumber.
Rose didnāt have the energy to move and simply remained as she was, the bench only slightly uncomfortable. She knew her back and shoulders would be stiff and sore later, but she just...couldnāt bring herself to move.
Last night had been difficult with Junās possession rearing itās ugly head, worrying about the team that Arik took to discover what the hell was happening with her caravans, and the fall out that happened between Emeline and Mafrea. She cringed and lifted a hand to run over her face as she recalled the Conjurer yelling at Mafrea, partially revealing that Rosette felt more than what their familial bond was. Luckily, the mage likely missed it as he was so focused on Emeline and her lack of control.
Then, there was the news that Anhashy delivered about the Garleans not truly being Garleans. They were hired thugs paid to target her shipments, intent on destroying her. She knew she had upset some people with her bravado and blunt dealings, but actual enemies that would strike out? She supposed it would happen sooner or later, she thought as she shifted a little to relieve the pressure on her right hip. Still, she had felt oddly vulnerable.
Perhaps it was because she was so depleted from aiding Jun? Manipulating someoneās aether was an incredibly difficult task for a seasoned professional...much less a novice stumbling through it based on anotherās notations. She had wanted to ask Mafrea to stay on the ship instead of taking a walk to get some air. Yet...she let him go. He needed to go do whatever it was he did when the rage was close to breaching the surface. His need was greater than her own.
Rose closed her eyes, once more trying to talk herself into getting up and give herself a pep talk. She had paperwork to file, contracts to review, and a meeting to talk with a stained glass and window merchant about setting up shipments to Kugane and Doma. Yet still, she didnāt move.
It wasnāt until the first streaks of sun bathed the ship that she was seen walking away from the Rocinante, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast as she was lost in her own chaotic thoughts. She had more questions than answers after that caravanās mission and she looked forward to the full report. She had some digging to do.
mentions: @healeremeline, @oroete, @junakagane, @blackgarden-fc, @Arik (The Bum) @Anhashy (No tumblr?)
The scritch-scratching of a quill against parchment was incredibly loud in the area that served both as a study and as an intimate gathering space. Rosetteās home was quaint, small...nothing like the house that she had grown up in, the Valeria estate sprawling in one of the larger plots of the Gobletās wards. Truthfully, she preferred it this way as it provided a cozy atmosphere for when her ragtag family gathered together for a meal or to visit.Ā
The merchant dipped her quill into the ink and continued to elegantly scrawl notations on the documents and reports for her Syndicate patron, Lady Noni. The one benefit of having been so badly injured was that she had gained the ability to catch up on inventories, shipping manifests, a multitude of different contracts that demanded her attention, and some research into shipping companies that could move her product. Murdock, her retainer and right hand man for the newly minted Desert Rose Industries, was utterly indispensable when she was out and about with the Black Garden. The one-eyed, scarred redheaded Hyur and his chosen Elezen life partner, Richart, ran quite the tight ship on her behalf. Once she had been feeling better, she was immensely pleased that nothing was amiss and everything accounted for.
She didnāt look up as she heard footsteps across the floorboards above her head, continuing to focus on her notations and reviewing contracts. Nor did the sound of footfalls on her stairs break her trance. Murdock and Richart had continually been coming and going the last two or three days, bringing her updated inventories and offers from shipping companies that ventured to and from Doma and Kugane. She had a few ideas and had been up late the night before speaking with both of her associates in regards to branching out into supplies to help rebuild Doma and tempt some Goldsmiths and jewelers in Kugane--
āWell, dear sister, I do hope Iām not interrupting.ā
The blood in her veins turned to ice as Alistairās voice penetrated her thoughts as surely as that Black Mageās familiar had. Her hand froze in itās movements of writing and she lifted her eyes, taking slow breath and she forced her hand not to tremble. She met a set of eyes so similar in color to her own, it was uncanny.
The eldest Valeria offspring stood at ease before her, leaning on a decorative black cane with a carved ivory handle. His black hair was slicked back, streaks of gray standing out in it and he had an easy smile with a confident expression on his face. Tucked beneath his arm was a small package, one that had been similarly been brought to her doorstep a few weeks prior. He raised an eyebrow at her in question of her perusal.Ā āExpecting someone else? Your retainers, perhaps? Or one of your friends?ā
She just barely managed not to stiffen, mentally coaching herself to keep her posture relaxed and her breathing even. She delicately set the quill back into the inkwell, folding her hands against the desk and she gave an enigmatic smile to her brother.Ā āWhat brings you here, Alistair?ā She kept her tone patient and calm, her head tilting slightly with the question as her ebony hair tumbled over her shoulder.Ā āI thought my last message to you was clear, via your retainer.ā
The man stepped forward, dropping the packet of papers on her desk as his gaze turned icy.Ā āAh yes...how did you so eloquently put it, Rosette? Oh, I remember.ā He leveled a glare at her,Ā āYou had her relay:Ā āGo hang yourself with your own colon and suck on it as you die.ā Am I correct?ā
That caused Rose to give a soft, amused chuckle and she grinned at him.Ā āIām certainly glad my message was relayed so well.ā She waved her hand at the packet,Ā āSince Annette clearly didnāt stutter, I would suggest you take your papers and leave. Your business isnāt wanted here, Alistair.ā
āI gave you three chances, Rosette, to accept the offer. Should you reject it a fourth time, Iām afraid there may very well be consequences.ā His gaze bore into her steadily,Ā āThat could make life very difficult for you and your ragtag little friends.ā
Her brother leaned on the desk, his arms braced as he loomed over her and Rosette didnāt so much as twitch. Her heartbeat sped up with anxiety and she feel a trickle of sweat slip down her back, but she didnāt dare show a hint of fear. She raised her chin to look at him, her eyes narrowing.
āSince I canāt seem to beat the reason into you, mayhaps knowing your pigheadedness could cause your friends to suffer some rather interesting difficulties. Your blonde Conjurer? Iām sure her occupation could get very precarious if her shipments of herbs and medicinal supplies happened to go astray.ā He gave her a dark look, his eyes narrowing as he watched her carefully neutral expression.Ā āAnd your little Raen stray? What would happen should she not return from one of her little excursions?ā
Rosette bristled a little,Ā āAlistair...ā Her voice held a low, but sharp warning.
He smirked in triumph at having drawn a reaction from his younger sibling.Ā āOr of the Xaela? A Gladiator, formidable from what I have read in the Sands. Iāve been told he leaves the trips for hunting excursions often enough and accidents do happen...ā
āArik would kick anyoneās ass--ā
āAnd then there is the Ala Mhigan. Oroāete, was it?ā He cut her off sharply and watched her go very still, āIāve seen his name on the Adventurerās roster at the Quicksand when looking to hire some thugs to protect my shipments. From what I can understand, heās also a force to contend with...and yet not many know what he is capable of. The right word in someoneās ear and Iām sure his skills could be uncovered--ā
āThey have nothing to do with this!ā Rosette snapped, rising and ignoring the ache in her midsection and shoulder. Her cool veneer slipped, her temper pounded behind her eyes and she clenched her jaw. She knew she slipped and had given him the thing he was looking for: leverage.
And the bastard fucking knew it, Rosette acknowledged as he slowly smiled.Ā āPerhaps, perhaps not. I would urge you, sister, to reconsider the offer on the table.ā He slid the contract packet to her, watching her gaze drop to it and he watched her shoulder slightly slump.Ā āAfter all, you may care little for your blood family...but that is not exactly so with the oddities that tend to float around you. Think about their interests and welfare, since you seem heedless of your own. There wonāt be a fifth offer.ā
Rosette opened the packet and pulled out the top paper of the contract, staring at it, chewing the inside of her cheek. Faces flashed in her mindsā eye, the uncertain possibilities of their futures...and yet. Yet, she knew them well enough that they could handle themselves. Saphyra was savvy and strong, she could handle a hell of a lot more than any gave her credit for. Emeline was smart and rarely traveled anywhere alone and she also had connections to Gridania; there were ways around shipping blocks -- Rose knew that all too well.
Arik was intelligent and had versatility, the Xaela was built like a fucking brick shit house. She had never, not once, seen him falter. He wasnāt infallible, but he would be able to hold out until help arrived and had the ability to handle anything thrown at him. Mafrea...heād rip the skeleton out of an attacker and make them dance with it. He would boil someoneās blood in their veins, then cause their heart to implode. Rosette would be frightened of him if she had any sense, but the way he made her feel--
She turned her focus back to the contract and to Alistair, reaching for the quill and withdrawing it from the ink well. At the bottom of the page, she wrote it out just below where she was to sign and handed it back to him. She waited with baited breath as he took the paper with a sickly smile to read her elegant script. Her heart slammed against her ribs and another trickle of sweat joined the first to go down her back. A risk; a reckless one but she saw no other recourse.
Alistairās smile fell and his lips tightened, his gaze frigid as he looked to her and he sneered.Ā āYou will regret this, Rosette.ā He tossed the paper down on the deskās polished mahogany surface, her elegantly handwriting ofĀ āFuck Youā plain as day.
Now, it was Rosetteās turn to smirk.Ā āNo, I donāt think I will. Now...if youāll kindly get the fuck out of my house...ā She gestured to the stairwell,Ā āYou saw yourself in and you can see yourself out.ā She eased back into her chair, grinning at him like a madwoman.
The older merchant turned, his rage palpable and she could almost see him seething as he ascended the staircase without another word. Would there be consequences in the future? Rosette had little doubt that he would cause further trouble. However, she counted this among herĀ āWinsā and she was damn near giddy with the feeling. She leaned back in her chair as she heard the slamming of her front door and started to chuckle.
Yes. That was definitely a win.
mentions: @saphyra-tsuki / @healeremeline / @oroete / @arik (heās a butt and doesnāt have a Tumblr)
