agogelogs | [SEMI-OPEN] took a power trip

[ The estate is surprisingly unguarded, considering the painter's prominence in Paris.

With only a few servants around, breaking in is relatively easily, especially with a spirit who had the ability of phasing through solid matter. All Achilles had to do was take on his spirit form and move inside the building, unlocking a window on the top floor and letting his partner in.

They had come to a mutual decision prior to the infiltration that they would gather intel first, then go about the best course of action. Since earning an audience with David just didn't seem realistic, Ryuji is forced to think outside of the box. If he's unable to find anything worthwhile, then Achilles will have to take over. ]

We need to decide what to do in the event a servant catches you. [ Achilles could easily just take on spirit form, but Ryuji can't exactly do that. ] You said you have experience doing this kind of thing, though.

Edited 2017-11-28 05:11 (UTC)

[It's a pretty simple infiltration as far as the work he's done in the past- just a house, nothing spectral or magicked beyond belief. This is well before the age of surveillance, so he doesn't think anything of the plan that they had laid out prior. Of course, this would be a little easier if he had Morgana around (he hated to admit to that), because a small pet wandering in the mansion would be a good ruse should anything go south. But since there's no chance of cat burglary going on tonight, Ryuji just has to rely on everything he's learned up to this point as a guide post to get through with this mission.

And it's nearly flawless. The route up to the second floor is easily achieved by scaling a nearby building and landing onto the roof via the entrance way provided through an alleyway. He waits for the subtle sound of the window's opening, and then carefully climbs through the window. This is so much easier when you have a guy on the inside to help.]

Don't worry about that. I'm actually pretty great at this stuff. Trust me, 'kay? [He's already looking down the hall and making some guesstimates of what room would be what. This isn't so much a fine art as it is just having good hunches at where people keep their most valuable stuff. Since they're not looking to rob the dude, it just comes down to deducing the difference.

And it's not like he hasn't robbed an art museum before. Granted, it was far more Escher than this, though...]

Probably bedrooms on this level, but see where the stairs wrap around and lead to that door in the middle? That's probably his workshop. There's a good chance he's in there.

Oh... and, don't call me by my real name. My signal is "Skull," got it?

Edited 2017-11-28 05:39 (UTC)

[ Achilles has nothing to worry about himself, but in the worst case scenario, Ryuji might get captured by the enemy and then he'd have to abandon this mission altogether to go and rescue him. After all, with tension so high in this day and age, it's likely the boy would get his head immediately lopped off by a paranoid revolutionary.

They have to take the appropriate measures to ensure that won't be the case.

He has to trust him, though. He's young, but he's still an adult by his own personal, cultural standards. He's old enough to know what he's doing, and the only thing working against him is his lack of worldly experience. He's done this before, where Achilles hasn't, so that means he's leading this operation.

He won't admit to that, of course. ]

Skull? [ He tries to hide his amusement, but is unable to catch the quiet snort that rushes out of his nose. ] Like your mask. I get it.

[ Hey, he's not going to protest. Ryuji only knows him by his own codename, so it's only fair. ]

Why would he be in his workshop this late at night? [ He's not challenging him, but asking him out of genuine curiosity. He seems so sure of this deduction he's made that he would like to understand his process of thought. He's mildly impressed. ]

[Ryuji doesn't really think the chortle at his codename was something that was particularly funny at first- but then he remembers how, that first palace, when he took Kamoshida down, how dumb it sounded to begin with. Now, it feels second nature, and watching Achilles become amused with it brings an equally dumb smile to his face. He likes this side of him- and he has to catch himself falling too far into that thought so that he can start to move forward and furtively mask his footsteps.

He brings a finger to his mouth and lowers his voice immensely.]

Dude, he's either asleep or in his gallery. Nerdy types like this are all the same. Yusuke would be up right now, painting. I'd put money on it.

[He hears a stir of sound and retreats behind the corner. It's kind of amazing how swiftly he can move when he's actively trying to use his agility to his advantage. There's the sound of a maid coming upstairs to snuff out the lights to half dimness. David must like the rooms darker at night- he takes note of that mentally.

When the coast is clear, he motions for the room at the top of the stairs. Now or never.]

[ Alright, he'll trust his intuition for now.

At the sound of the maid coming up the stairs, he vanishes in thin wisps of energy, dematerializing and making himself invisible to the human eye. Ryuji does as he claimed he was capable of and darts for the corner.

The maid passes by them without a second glance and Achilles reappears, only to forge on ahead before Ryuji has the chance to emerge from his hiding place.

And he just pushes the door open without any warning.

Sorry, he's no good at this covert stuff. ]

[His eyes grow wide at how stupid Achilles is being. For the first time in his entire life, he actually sympathizes with Morgana; this must have been exactly what the master thief saw when he was looking at Ryuji doing the same thing during his first heist. He mutters a few highly vulgar words under his mouth, and darts to a nearby table, checking to see if Achilles was noticed making his grand entrance. Feeling somewhat safe for now, he follows in quickly, closing the door as quietly as humanly possible before he enters...

Oh. A private folio. There's art in every direction; on the walls, mounted and ready to be sold off, on the floor for the less than important commissions that he had been working on. An empty easel stand in the middle, with a blank canvas that's been untouched. Someone who was really into art would have died to be here. Ryuji, on the other hand is just simply happy that they haven't gotten caught yet.]

Rider...

[The coast is clear, though. His first deduction was wrong, in the end. Maybe his understanding of David was off as well. Little did he know that he was mostly famous for selling his art- that he was good at it, but maybe it wasn't the type of passion that had him awake until 2am fervently working with his brushes in hand.

Maybe this dude just did this shit for money.]

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let me share my favorite poem with you https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43588/dover-beach

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[ It's late at night and Achilles is wandering the streets of Paris, not quite aimless but not with purpose either. He's simply restless, with no battles to fight and no tent or lavish home to return to.

Fate works in funny ways, though. He finds that if he leaves himself open to opportunity, opportunity will come. That may be a perk of being favoured by the Gods, though he still resents things like fate.

So naturally, staying out when most people would be asleep might end up proving to be a good choice. He can already hear a bit of commotion coming from the next block over, and he's drawn to it like a hungry wolf looking for its next meal. ]

Edited 2017-11-29 05:00 (UTC)

[One would think, being in the heart of Paris and at the center of a revolution, that there's much to do and much to see. In some cases, they would be correct- but in Siegfried's case? It's a little more difficult trying to not be so suspicious from being so goddamn tall. Certainly, there's others around his height, but when you're trying to remain disguised within the city until you're needed to take out whatever the Regency is planning? Being tall doesn't exactly help.

It's because of his height and his tendency to avoid causing problems with others that actually draws the trouble to him, instead. Most would expect a man like him to push his way around- and when he doesn't, it leaves a sour taste in certain group's mouths, claiming it's bad for their reputation.

As it stands right now, a group nearby has incredible interest in who he is and where he's going. Several brutes among the Extremists in the pack have him caught up in one of the alleys and are trying to be menacing to a man who's their height, if not a little taller than they are.

And he's... arguing with them. Actually, no, it seems more like he's trying to get out of the situation and not being so great at it.]

I don't have anything you want, sorry. [They don't seem to like that answer. One of them grabs Siegfried's arm, and he yanks it out again immediately, frowning.] I said, I don't have anything.

[The same brute grabs Siegfried's shirt collar this time, and again, he pries it off.] I don't want this to end poorly. Just let me pass.

[Achilles, if you'd be so kind as to knock one into a wall? Or something. Siegfried clearly isn't going to do anything about it other than try to avoid causing trouble.]

[ Yes, he'd be so kind, especially because he's disgusted by Siegfried's passive display.

So the one holding onto Siegfried? Is going to be kicked with inhuman strength, sending him flying down the street and most definitely breaking a bone or two. The poor man will end up crumpled on the cobblestone, shrieking in agony as his associates are left confused and disoriented.

At that, Achilles lets out a sharp, jovial laugh.

Because the thugs are just standing there petrified, he takes the opportunity to punch one through a nearby, wooden wall. ]

[That certainly gets his attention. Siegfried snaps his head just in time to notice the familiar sight of green hair and a laugh that's a jolt back to the Grail War. Seeing his supposed assailant go flying out into the street, and another punched into the wall only makes him regret things took a turn. He hadn't want to hurt them or resort to violence.

A split second later, chaos becomes the alleyway. The thugs brandish their swords and one immediately takes after Siegfried, the hero grabbing his arm before the blade can come even close. Seconds later and he's shoved into the opposite wall, hard enough to knock him out, but not hard enough to hurt him more than necessary. A brute charges him right after, and he gets met with dirt as the Servant moves and trips him over his own feet. The thug bounces like a ball and rolls before coming to a stop and staying still.

That gives Siegfried a moment to confirm that it's exactly who he thinks it is.]

Rider. [Spoken while the last few of the group give hesitant looks to each other as to whether to keep fighting or to run. You'd never tell he was both irritated and also somewhat thankful to see a familiar face. Siegfried is like that.]

[ Did he really need a moment to confirm with hair like this?

Once the men have scattered and fled, Achilles lets out another breath of laughter, sliding his bangs back and tips his chin. He's appraising Siegfried with judging, humoured eyes. ]

What were you doing letting those thugs push you around for, Saber?

Don't tell me that's your idea of fun.

[Better to confirm than to look like an even bigger fool than he already does, honestly.

The look Achilles gives him once they're alone is a sharp reminder of their last battle- You should go out with a bang! He remembers it vividly. Siegfried snorts.]

It wasn't. [Spoken flatly. He's regretting being thankful Achilles is here already.] I was trying to avoid causing trouble.

[Spoken with the tone of "because we're supposed to be undercover." Not like Achilles cares, but points for trying?]

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[ The events of the night have left Achilles shaken, though he'd be hard-pressed to admit it. He hadn't expected that the mission would entail confronting a man who was an actual fan of his, and a man whose influence was through his art, art in which depicted his lore, his life, his legacy.

It wouldn't have been so jarring if he'd known, he thinks. Though Patroclus was a beloved memory of his, he still hasn't come to terms with his death or the fact that he was indirectly responsible for his murder. And his desire for vengeance -- oh, had it left the tail end of his life a mess.

Those three paintings, depicting his dear friend, his funeral, and his enemy, have left a lasting impression and one that will not fade with time.

Maybe this was fate at work again, intwining him with reminders of the shameful part of his past, so as to punish him. Well, if that were the case... he'll just have to deal, won't he? As loathsome as it is to be played with by the Gods, he would have to prove his strength by not letting these things break his spirit.

He and Ryuji have parted ways for the rest of the night, but a Heroic Spirit doesn't need sleep. He has expelled quite a bit of mana by putting on that show earlier, so he is in need of rest. But not before paying his horse (that he left in the care of the stall owners) a visit. ]

Keraunos! I'm back, and I've brought you dinner. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving you alone for so long.

[ Yes, he's charming the horse... Don't judge. ]

Edited 2017-11-29 05:13 (UTC)

[Chiron's a fan of being nice to horses.

Actually, that's why he's in the stables, checking on all residents. Beyond the fact that he has little else to do in the evenings (not sleeping really is a curse), Chiron's come to find Paris a much more interesting city in the day. The architecture is easier to observe, and there's seemingly no empty street devoid of people. For a revolution, people still have to get on with things.

So Chiron doesn't look up when he hears Achilles come in. He just keeps giving a particular horse a good mane brushing, as the horse's hair is presently matted and unwieldy.]

I doubt there's any grudge.

[ Oh... Teacher! Achilles stops short in his stride, taken by surprise at the sight of his teacher tending to his horse.

It's perfect timing, actually. He was just the person he wanted to see after that entire ordeal. Now that they're no longer enemies, Chiron is a person that Achilles finds comfort in and around, and he wants to cling to that reassurance. His teacher had always stabilized him in moments where his emotions exceeded his rationale, like he was capable of watering down anything too intense for the young hero. ]

With you to pamper her in my absence, she shouldn't have any.

[ He approaches, plucking a single apple from a bag he carried inside. ]

If anything, I'm probably more austere compared to your indulgences. Not that that's a bad thing.

[If anything, Chiron considered it an excellent thing. He took a few steps back to allow Achilles to come through, as few horses didn't delight in apples and other excellent treats.]

I did get someone to muck out her stable. There's been a dip in employees here, and so certain essential things have fallen by the wayside.

[ Oh yes, he's aware of that, Chiron. Which is why he smirks knowingly at the remark. ]

Like any woman, a happy horse makes for an easier life. [ Not that he needs one. But hey, he's taken to the company of the steed, even if she isn't as magnificent as an immortal gift from the Gods, or plunder from a city he laid siege to himself.

He'll hold an apple out to the horse, who takes it out of his hand with an eager snap of its jaws, and holds out another for his teacher. ]

I'm happy to find you out here.

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My default...

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Re: My default...

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[ The stall owners have taken great care of his horse and Achilles has made the executive decision to leave her there. He didn't have much use for her otherwise, since they weren't going into battle anytime soon, and a city just isn't easy for a horse to navigate through, with its crowded roads and marketplaces.

But Keraunos isn't happy being abandoned. She's broken out from her stall more than a few times since Achilles has started leaving her there.

Tonight happens to be another successful escape and she gallops through the quiet roads in search of her rider. She's not going to find him so easily, though. ]

Edited 2017-11-29 05:19 (UTC)

[Of course, no one should normally expect to encounter a steed so freely wandering anywhere anywhen. Not that Bucky is particularly aware of this fact as he grew up in an era when horses were being replaced with automobiles, but being stuck here for a while has had its perks of him acclimating to logical conclusions relative to the era. Like how a well kept horse probably has shouldn’t be ambling about on their own accord because that’s how horses tend to get stolen, and horses are pretty expensive and beneficial to have when bartering for armed goods or as a personal steed.

Not that Bucky wants either of those. At this point, he’s more concerned for whoever’s lost their horse because that investment sure is walking its way quite calmly down the road right now. Good thing Bucky’s honest enough to want to return it.

Conveniently, he has some carrots in his satchel, something he’d been looking forward to eating later himself, but carrots are pretty great for bribing horses, or so he’s been taught to think. As luck would have it, approaching calmly and holding a couple out in his right hand seems to catch the horse’s attention well enough, and it pauses to acknowledge his waving food about. Delicious, mostly fresh, sweet, nourishing food. He approaches calmly, palm up in a gesture of honest intent, insomuch as the horse (female, apparently) might understand anyway.]

Hey there, girl. You looking for something? [Yeah, Barnes. Just use English. It’s fine. This is fine. It probably only understands French.

He switches.] «Would you like some carrots? I have a few. I don't mind sharing»

[ The only motivation this horse has in life is food. And sometimes being pampered and spoiled by her rider.

But mostly food. She's a big girl, after all, and you can't sustain muscles like these on a small diet. It's been a while since her lunch earlier that afternoon, so after Bucky gains her attention by calling out to her, she'll make a beeline trot right for him. She's zoning in on that carrot, though...

All her instincts tell her to be wary of this stranger. He may not be a snake or an ostrich, but he's still Not Her Rider, and thus is a potential threat.

So keeping her distance, she'll stretch her neck out and reeeeach for the carrot without having to get any closer.

She barely manages to snap it up between her teeth, but the moment it's in her mouth, it's gone. She lingers after she swallows, snorting and letting warm air rush out of her nostrils. To show her gratitude, she begins smacking her lips, making chewing motions with her jaw.

Give her more!! You can lead her away from the street this way, Buck. ]

[Playing a lyre in the more affluent region of this city...the name escaped him of course, he wasn't in Thedas anymore and the only word that came to mind was Val Royeaux, but that couldn't be right.

Hardly the point, it was the man playing the lyre, Dorian had pegged him as someone a bit austere for such pursuits given that it seemed like something that required patiences similarly to the lute. Never mind the location, not that he couldn't picture the boy in a fancy place, they did dine together after all, but it didn't seem like his milieu at all. It was completely understandable why Dorian was here. It was cleaner, the wine was better, and he was able to find a half decent tailor to sculpt a half decent outfit from the enchanter's own memory--he fashioned himself with one sleeve, it showed off the geometric designs along the length of his arm. It was amazing how far a little bit of magic and talent (not to mention charm and good looks) could get you.

This world was almost easy for a mage with picky tastes.

He sat not too far away in a high-backed chair with one foot propped up, obscuring his face with a book and pretending as though he couldn't be less interested. Of course if the Altus weren't interested he would have made a witty remark that was juxtaposed to his feelings or left completely. Still, he's not about to admit that it sounds good either, not to a man who considers his magic old-fashioned. Dorian's saltier than the Waking Sea, he's just very skilled at hiding it.]

[ Hey, this is what a guy needs to do if he wants to keep afloat in the material world. He's ... literally fucking his way through Paris, bedding lonely women in exchange for a place to stay at night and their essence through their... bodily fluids.

It's not at all glamorous, but at least this way he isn't resorting to eating the hearts of humans. Plus, he likes sex and he likes the smiles of satisfied women even more.

He's out here, with his rolled up painting at his side and balancing a lyre over his lap, plucking at the strings idly. The melody he produces is foreign to the people of Paris, much too Mediterranean for their tastes, but admiring women still stop by to sit and enjoy the music. He keeps his eyes shut, cracking one open only to search the crowd once in a while. He's long since noticed Dorian lingering nearby; he's waiting for him to come closer, but it becomes apparent that he's more of the type to be chased than to give chase.

But he's worth it. A mage has a considerable amount of mana, after all.

The music pauses and he makes the excuse that his strings need tuning. The crowd disperses a bit, leaving him an opening to beeline right for the table Dorian has made himself comfortable at. He plops himself in the seat adjacent to him, playfully kicking at his propped up foot from the chair to make room for himself. And yeah, his foot stays hooked around his ankle, because a man of culture and taste should enjoy a good footsying, right? ]

Have you been enjoying the show so far, Dorian? [ He's keeping his eyes on his lyre, tightening the strings one by one. ]

Edited 2017-11-29 04:39 (UTC)

[Just don't go into details about your sexual exploits all over Paris, Dorian will just give you that look like you dribbled down the front of your shirt. Not that he's proper by any means, he spent plenty of time in homes of ill repute...or brothels, he just doesn't talk about it. Who talks about that sort of thing?

Still, it certainly does beat killing and raising suspicion any day.

Music that sounds foreign to the people of this city doesn't really sound terribly foreign to mage, sounding very much like something elven to his ear or from the eastern coast of Thedas. Not Ferelden or Orlesian, but the further into Dalish territory one got or the further north even, you might here something like that. In Orlais it was all waltzes and Ferelden was very folksie tavern stuff.

Not one to downplay his presence, even if he wanted to, he figured it wouldn't be long before Achilles noticed his presence and the attempt at usurping the position of the mage's foot with his own was met with a huff that sounded suspiciously like an aborted chuckle. Certainly a man of culture and taste enjoys footsie, but his response is somewhat more subtle. A brief nudge at his heel, propping his companion's foot squarely on top of his own more elegantly before releasing a bit of energy, barely perceivable to most people, but there was a brief, electric glow about him.

Electricity that would be felt by Achilles, first at the sole of his feet, then it would snake it's way between his toes, along the turn of his heel and ankle. The energy would stop just below the knee. It wasn't painful, or anywhere near it, a rippling, tingling sensation just to let the man know Dorian completely understood the art of footsie and flirting.]

Makes me a bit homesick really. [Dorian said casually, before laying his book down, taking a moment to observe Achilles before laying his eyes on the rolled up painting which he gestures toward after considering it for a moment.] Spoils of war, or a prize for your skilled playing?

[ That electricity comes as a surprise, but he doesn't show it. The sensation is too intense to be ticklish, though it is faint enough to be pleasant. He extends his foot as the electric pulse reaches into his curling toes, pointing his toe downward towards the bone of the other man's ankle and lifting the hem of his pant leg. The current ends just below his knee, ebbing away and letting muscle relax.

His smile is softer, more subdued, looking as though it were a secret as he eyes him.

Being forward can be rewarding sometimes. He's especially pleased by Dorian's receptiveness. ]

Neither, actually. [ He plucks at the strings of the lyre idly, looking over at the painting curled inside the tub at his waist. ] It's stolen goods.

[ And he strums, playing a simple yet traditional melody. He's glad that the music is somewhat familiar to Dorian. Nostalgia may invoke feelings of romance or longing, which he thinks he can redirect to himself if he plays his cards right. ]

Edited 2017-12-01 04:35 (UTC)

[There were other ways to measure reaction and though Achilles wasn't showing surprise on his face, Dorian knew he was pleased, at the very least. The way his toes curled in response to the electrical impulse and the smile on his lips? The mage could tell that much and he knew, of course, having been on the receiving in of magical pleasure he knew what felt good and what could be dangerous. A little ice on the fingertips, a bit of fire under the skin, mild electrical sensations were a very seductive tool, as pleasing as they could be dangerous.

Most people just saw the danger.

It was flirting, this sort of thing, and the Altus was quite the fan of flirting of any sort and he never failed to respond. A habit that was hard to kill and could sometimes be misleading.]

Stolen goods? [He wasn't surprised, more interest, and he kept his voice low and conversational, no need to draw any attention.] It must be good if that's the case, you hardly seem short on coin.

[Was he trying to use music to seduce the mage? Well it might work, Achilles is in his gravity, approaching Dorian to strum his lyre everyone else had to flock to Achilles's side for such a personal audience. He could get behind the privilege of it as for romance...well that is complicated can of worms.

Not really thinking too much of it, he reclined his head back, grinning while the other man played.] Where did you learn to play a lyre?

RYUJI

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SIEGFRIED

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BUCKY

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I should make a NPC journal for the horse

Open? Day or night?

Anytime you want!

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