the-only-queen-that-matters

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

I would agree! :} One that you, I'd say, are getting the better half of, but I digress. All sales are final--

[As she spoke, she was filling in the blanks on a custom sales receipt laden with terrible clipart.]

--subject to my discretion, exchanges are not accepted, and for all further business inquiries you can reach me via mail at the address on the bottom! Sign, please. :}

[The bottom of the receipt, below the blank signature area for Sage's name, was The Lady's "address."]

["The Lady Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez (and associated entourage)"]

[That was it in its entirety.]

*A tall, blonde woman walks to the address given to her via groupchat: not as much an address as a space between addresses, really. She walks down the alley to an unmarked door and considers it for a second. She had considered bringing something to defend herself with, considering she had never met this trader before, even over text, but decided not to.*

*Sage Fournier knocks on the door.* Hello?

[The door opens, just a crack. Sage sees a masked and goggled face through the crack, motionless for several seconds. Impossible to see what was going on behind the tinted goggles, but presumably a judgment of some sort was being passed. The door closed again, and Sage could hear muffled discussion for a mere few seconds before the door opened again, all the way, and she was granted permission into Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez's shop.]

[Lady Regina is wearing a bright blue lacy top, unbuttoned nearly to her navel and tucked into tan shorts. The sleeves come halfway down her gesticulating forearms as she gives her security spiel.]

So what is it that I can do for you, ma'am? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

Hm! I daresay, the dagger is a very unique thing, and could go for an absolutely outrageous price should I put the effort in to hunt down the correct buyer. If you want it and the garrote, I'll have to insist on all three of your artifacts in turn... :}

*A tall, blonde woman walks to the address given to her via groupchat: not as much an address as a space between addresses, really. She walks down the alley to an unmarked door and considers it for a second. She had considered bringing something to defend herself with, considering she had never met this trader before, even over text, but decided not to.*

*Sage Fournier knocks on the door.* Hello?

[The door opens, just a crack. Sage sees a masked and goggled face through the crack, motionless for several seconds. Impossible to see what was going on behind the tinted goggles, but presumably a judgment of some sort was being passed. The door closed again, and Sage could hear muffled discussion for a mere few seconds before the door opened again, all the way, and she was granted permission into Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez's shop.]

[Lady Regina is wearing a bright blue lacy top, unbuttoned nearly to her navel and tucked into tan shorts. The sleeves come halfway down her gesticulating forearms as she gives her security spiel.]

So what is it that I can do for you, ma'am? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[There is a brief pause. Maybe two seconds. Someone astute to that sort of thing would be able to tell that there is a certain Energy in that pause. A certain Vibe in the way her practiced expression doesn't change at all.]

… Well! As far as recent acquisitions go, I have a dagger! Those pierced by it will hunger and/or Hunger in a very insatiable sort of way, to the point of rapid starvation. Of course, it may make them desperate, but as far as killing the unkillable, I think it's a very solid option.

[While talking, she'd retrieved an ornate box, and opened it for presentation. Inside was a massive serrated tooth, the root wrapped in a leather strap to protect the wielder's hand. She laid another, thinner and longer box atop it, and opened it to reveal a plain black stiletto knife.]

This one, on the other hand, was created unintentionally. I retrieved it from a Slaughter avatar who no longer had any use for it, and it seems that being his weapon of choice for so long, spending so long soaking in the blood of things that cannot die, it…well, it got good at that! It pierces the incorporeal, the false… Shadow people, ghosts, that type of thing. Admittedly, the more you're in contact with it, the greater your bloodthirst grows, which can become a positive feedback loop if you let it, so. Don't let it!

On the other hand. If these are too. Hrm. Brutal for you. If you'd like to pretend that murder is something a little classier.

[She gestured at a guard to watch the two items she left on the counter while she retrieved a third. She rummaged around inside a cabinet, then another, and eventually returned with a small silk pouch that clinked as she set it on the counter. She opened it and pulled out a shining garrote, a length of chain with metal handles at either end.]

Once this one is fastened around the throat of someone, they can't fight back. Their limbs will go slack, and peacefully into that final goodnight they'll go…

*A tall, blonde woman walks to the address given to her via groupchat: not as much an address as a space between addresses, really. She walks down the alley to an unmarked door and considers it for a second. She had considered bringing something to defend herself with, considering she had never met this trader before, even over text, but decided not to.*

*Sage Fournier knocks on the door.* Hello?

[The door opens, just a crack. Sage sees a masked and goggled face through the crack, motionless for several seconds. Impossible to see what was going on behind the tinted goggles, but presumably a judgment of some sort was being passed. The door closed again, and Sage could hear muffled discussion for a mere few seconds before the door opened again, all the way, and she was granted permission into Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez's shop.]

[Lady Regina is wearing a bright blue lacy top, unbuttoned nearly to her navel and tucked into tan shorts. The sleeves come halfway down her gesticulating forearms as she gives her security spiel.]

So what is it that I can do for you, ma'am? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[Ah. One of those customers. "Um, I want the dessert that's tastiest." Wonderful. Her smile does not change.]

What do you tend to fight? That would help me find something suitable for you. I'd like us both to be happy with what we get!

*A tall, blonde woman walks to the address given to her via groupchat: not as much an address as a space between addresses, really. She walks down the alley to an unmarked door and considers it for a second. She had considered bringing something to defend herself with, considering she had never met this trader before, even over text, but decided not to.*

*Sage Fournier knocks on the door.* Hello?

[The door opens, just a crack. Sage sees a masked and goggled face through the crack, motionless for several seconds. Impossible to see what was going on behind the tinted goggles, but presumably a judgment of some sort was being passed. The door closed again, and Sage could hear muffled discussion for a mere few seconds before the door opened again, all the way, and she was granted permission into Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez's shop.]

[Lady Regina is wearing a bright blue lacy top, unbuttoned nearly to her navel and tucked into tan shorts. The sleeves come halfway down her gesticulating forearms as she gives her security spiel.]

So what is it that I can do for you, ma'am? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[The air of excitement remains, but the Lady keeps a stiff upper lip, not letting any reaction show. A practiced pokerface.]

Oh, I'm interested in any or all. :} I can trade, or if you're in need of cash, I'm willing to purchase with liquid assets.

*A tall, blonde woman walks to the address given to her via groupchat: not as much an address as a space between addresses, really. She walks down the alley to an unmarked door and considers it for a second. She had considered bringing something to defend herself with, considering she had never met this trader before, even over text, but decided not to.*

*Sage Fournier knocks on the door.* Hello?

[The door opens, just a crack. Sage sees a masked and goggled face through the crack, motionless for several seconds. Impossible to see what was going on behind the tinted goggles, but presumably a judgment of some sort was being passed. The door closed again, and Sage could hear muffled discussion for a mere few seconds before the door opened again, all the way, and she was granted permission into Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez's shop.]

[Lady Regina is wearing a bright blue lacy top, unbuttoned nearly to her navel and tucked into tan shorts. The sleeves come halfway down her gesticulating forearms as she gives her security spiel.]

So what is it that I can do for you, ma'am? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

Ooh! :}

[Her grin is no more genuine, but there is an air of excitement at the prospect of new acquisitions. She gestures behind the counter with her free hand.]

I don't allow personal browsing--sticky fingers, you understand, and dangerous consequences--but if you have an idea in mind of what you want, I can find something to suit you. :}

Let's begin with yours though! What did you bring in, today?

*A tall, blonde woman walks to the address given to her via groupchat: not as much an address as a space between addresses, really. She walks down the alley to an unmarked door and considers it for a second. She had considered bringing something to defend herself with, considering she had never met this trader before, even over text, but decided not to.*

*Sage Fournier knocks on the door.* Hello?

[The door opens, just a crack. Sage sees a masked and goggled face through the crack, motionless for several seconds. Impossible to see what was going on behind the tinted goggles, but presumably a judgment of some sort was being passed. The door closed again, and Sage could hear muffled discussion for a mere few seconds before the door opened again, all the way, and she was granted permission into Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez's shop.]

[Lady Regina is wearing a bright blue lacy top, unbuttoned nearly to her navel and tucked into tan shorts. The sleeves come halfway down her gesticulating forearms as she gives her security spiel.]

So what is it that I can do for you, ma'am? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

*A tall, blonde woman walks to the address given to her via groupchat: not as much an address as a space between addresses, really. She walks down the alley to an unmarked door and considers it for a second. She had considered bringing something to defend herself with, considering she had never met this trader before, even over text, but decided not to.*

*Sage Fournier knocks on the door.* Hello?

[The door opens, just a crack. Sage sees a masked and goggled face through the crack, motionless for several seconds. Impossible to see what was going on behind the tinted goggles, but presumably a judgment of some sort was being passed. The door closed again, and Sage could hear muffled discussion for a mere few seconds before the door opened again, all the way, and she was granted permission into Regina Maria Rodriguez-Cortez's shop.]

[Lady Regina is wearing a bright blue lacy top, unbuttoned nearly to her navel and tucked into tan shorts. The sleeves come halfway down her gesticulating forearms as she gives her security spiel.]

So what is it that I can do for you, ma'am? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[Lady Regina also elects not to speak, deciding to accept this blessing, and sets to work counting the money.]

Coaldog suddenly opens the door before pointing a finger at the Lady. “so about the explosives.”

Decided on a more direct methodology for your Strange problem? :} What kind of scale are we working on here?

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[Gas masks conceal the disgust and fear of the Lady's entourage. Her own face does not flinch, though at the Horrible Noise, the smile does momentarily look much less genuine in a way hard to describe. She very calmly reaches under the counter and pulls on the thick glove she retrieves before picking up the tooth.]

Thank you very much for the business, sir! Please do remember us when you have a situation you'd like help resolving, any letters addressed to me do have their way of finding me eventually! Enjoy the rest of your evening. :}

A creature that was only a man in the most surface sense of the word slowly made its way through the street. It walked bent, stopping every so often to people-watch. The people in question dutifully ignored his staring, his horns, how the evening light reflected off of his yellow eyes, the way the bones under his skin shifted as though it was an ill-fitting suit.

It was so easy to ignore when it wasn't about you. Only once or twice he received unsettled and confused glances.

The Devourer itself didn't know what it was looking for. The urge to leave the Swamp after its recent conversation, to escape the stagnant air for just a fleeting moment had been overwhelming.

But now, he was simply following his nose.

He could smell the Archives throughout the town its many-layered aroma of deliciousness like a lure. But there was something new, too. Not enthralling like a good meal - but thick with the touch of Fear regardless.

Eventually he comes to stand in front of an unremarkable looking door. Out of pure curiosity he gives an experimental push against it, claws making a scratching noise.

"Mmrgh...?"

[One of Lady Regina's guards cracks the door, then immediately slams it. The Devourer hears frantic whispering coming from inside, and a few seconds later the door is opened by a young woman wearing a wide smile, though her eyes tell of irritation. For a moment. Her eyes scan up the Devourer until they meet his, and the irritation vanishes into something much more familiar to it. Panic. The smile does not falter.]

Ah. A very esteemed guest indeed. Please. Do come in. :}

[She opens the door fully, inviting it in. She does not bother giving her spiel about security measures. It wouldn't matter. And may make things worse by coming across as a threat. She is still smiling.]

Do you know what you're in the market for, or did you come to browse…? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[Ah. A customer unwilling to divulge details yet fully expectant of you to deliver on what they need. One of Those Customers. Customer service smile and voice in full effect.]

Well I have PE7, C4, and a couple of different applications of dynamite in the form of sticks or shaped charges!

Coaldog suddenly opens the door before pointing a finger at the Lady. “so about the explosives.”

Decided on a more direct methodology for your Strange problem? :} What kind of scale are we working on here?

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[The choice was made instantly.]

"The tooth, then!"

[The flesh would be a remarkably niche object. Only a handful of potential buyers. And the type of people who would be willing to buy are the type of people she was very eager to keep it away from.]

"All sales are final at my discretion, no guarantees are made regarding theorized usages, et cetera. Let me go bind up an attache…"

[All too happy to exit the EXTREMELY tense interaction now that the Devourer seemed pleased with an idea, the Lady briskly moved back into her shop, her men following. She fetched a decent quality case from the back--waterproof, shock resistant, reinforced--and began to etch onto it. Eyes on the outside. Linked, crossing the seams of the case. Watching. The Strange mask would be safe inside the case. Outside it would be Watched. It would be able to feel that. Safer inside the case. Don't try anything funny.]

[Inside the case, Spiral sigils. The mask would feel safe, in good company. And base, animalistic desires like Hunger would get lost in the Swirls well before they truly made it inside. And she explained these safety details to the Devourer a few minutes later, as she presented the case to him.]

"…Sound good to you?"

A creature that was only a man in the most surface sense of the word slowly made its way through the street. It walked bent, stopping every so often to people-watch. The people in question dutifully ignored his staring, his horns, how the evening light reflected off of his yellow eyes, the way the bones under his skin shifted as though it was an ill-fitting suit.

It was so easy to ignore when it wasn't about you. Only once or twice he received unsettled and confused glances.

The Devourer itself didn't know what it was looking for. The urge to leave the Swamp after its recent conversation, to escape the stagnant air for just a fleeting moment had been overwhelming.

But now, he was simply following his nose.

He could smell the Archives throughout the town its many-layered aroma of deliciousness like a lure. But there was something new, too. Not enthralling like a good meal - but thick with the touch of Fear regardless.

Eventually he comes to stand in front of an unremarkable looking door. Out of pure curiosity he gives an experimental push against it, claws making a scratching noise.

"Mmrgh...?"

[One of Lady Regina's guards cracks the door, then immediately slams it. The Devourer hears frantic whispering coming from inside, and a few seconds later the door is opened by a young woman wearing a wide smile, though her eyes tell of irritation. For a moment. Her eyes scan up the Devourer until they meet his, and the irritation vanishes into something much more familiar to it. Panic. The smile does not falter.]

Ah. A very esteemed guest indeed. Please. Do come in. :}

[She opens the door fully, inviting it in. She does not bother giving her spiel about security measures. It wouldn't matter. And may make things worse by coming across as a threat. She is still smiling.]

Do you know what you're in the market for, or did you come to browse…? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[The power behind his words can be felt as he speaks, and for just an instant, her lip involuntarily curls--if you weren't looking right at her when it happened, you would miss it.]

I can bind it. Seal it in an attache. Sealed internally and externally. But. Probably better if it's Hungry before it hunts. It'll be more motivated that way. Desperation breeds ingenuity.

[Her head cocks to the side in an unintentional mimickry of the Devourer. The smile is back.]

I accept trades! What are you offering?

A creature that was only a man in the most surface sense of the word slowly made its way through the street. It walked bent, stopping every so often to people-watch. The people in question dutifully ignored his staring, his horns, how the evening light reflected off of his yellow eyes, the way the bones under his skin shifted as though it was an ill-fitting suit.

It was so easy to ignore when it wasn't about you. Only once or twice he received unsettled and confused glances.

The Devourer itself didn't know what it was looking for. The urge to leave the Swamp after its recent conversation, to escape the stagnant air for just a fleeting moment had been overwhelming.

But now, he was simply following his nose.

He could smell the Archives throughout the town its many-layered aroma of deliciousness like a lure. But there was something new, too. Not enthralling like a good meal - but thick with the touch of Fear regardless.

Eventually he comes to stand in front of an unremarkable looking door. Out of pure curiosity he gives an experimental push against it, claws making a scratching noise.

"Mmrgh...?"

[One of Lady Regina's guards cracks the door, then immediately slams it. The Devourer hears frantic whispering coming from inside, and a few seconds later the door is opened by a young woman wearing a wide smile, though her eyes tell of irritation. For a moment. Her eyes scan up the Devourer until they meet his, and the irritation vanishes into something much more familiar to it. Panic. The smile does not falter.]

Ah. A very esteemed guest indeed. Please. Do come in. :}

[She opens the door fully, inviting it in. She does not bother giving her spiel about security measures. It wouldn't matter. And may make things worse by coming across as a threat. She is still smiling.]

Do you know what you're in the market for, or did you come to browse…? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

... :} ?

That's a both unsettling and non-descriptive answer!

Coaldog suddenly opens the door before pointing a finger at the Lady. “so about the explosives.”

Decided on a more direct methodology for your Strange problem? :} What kind of scale are we working on here?

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

[Lady Regina drops into a squat, resting her elbows on her knees. Her smile does finally drop, replaced by a thoughtful contemplation. She wanted to provide the product the Devourer needed, and it was only like 60% because she was worried about getting eaten if she didn't. This was a puzzle to be solved.]

Give me a minute, let me think…

[Hunting something based just on MEMORIES of it was…well, nothing was impossible, but she didn't have anything that did that in her current stock…True names played into the way the Stranger manifested as the Fae…]

…I have a Mask. It likes to become interesting people. Likes for those people to wear it, to be their face until they become its face. It's…predatory. If you can make this person sound fascinating enough to it, it may very well want to hunt them down so that it can become them. Which, with their true name, I think it would be able to find them? It's of the Strange, the Inhuman, I Don't Know You. They work within those strange rules…

You'd have to kill it before it found its way onto them and into them, of course. If that isn't agreeable, then I don't think I can help you with my current stock.

A creature that was only a man in the most surface sense of the word slowly made its way through the street. It walked bent, stopping every so often to people-watch. The people in question dutifully ignored his staring, his horns, how the evening light reflected off of his yellow eyes, the way the bones under his skin shifted as though it was an ill-fitting suit.

It was so easy to ignore when it wasn't about you. Only once or twice he received unsettled and confused glances.

The Devourer itself didn't know what it was looking for. The urge to leave the Swamp after its recent conversation, to escape the stagnant air for just a fleeting moment had been overwhelming.

But now, he was simply following his nose.

He could smell the Archives throughout the town its many-layered aroma of deliciousness like a lure. But there was something new, too. Not enthralling like a good meal - but thick with the touch of Fear regardless.

Eventually he comes to stand in front of an unremarkable looking door. Out of pure curiosity he gives an experimental push against it, claws making a scratching noise.

"Mmrgh...?"

[One of Lady Regina's guards cracks the door, then immediately slams it. The Devourer hears frantic whispering coming from inside, and a few seconds later the door is opened by a young woman wearing a wide smile, though her eyes tell of irritation. For a moment. Her eyes scan up the Devourer until they meet his, and the irritation vanishes into something much more familiar to it. Panic. The smile does not falter.]

Ah. A very esteemed guest indeed. Please. Do come in. :}

[She opens the door fully, inviting it in. She does not bother giving her spiel about security measures. It wouldn't matter. And may make things worse by coming across as a threat. She is still smiling.]

Do you know what you're in the market for, or did you come to browse…? :}

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

Coaldog suddenly opens the door before pointing a finger at the Lady. “so about the explosives.”

Decided on a more direct methodology for your Strange problem? :} What kind of scale are we working on here?

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

I'm glad you agree! It's tough work, but I can't complain. It's exciting, it gets me some very interesting friends in very interesting places, and, well. It certainly keeps my electricity turned on, that's for sure. :}

[At its last three words, as she's halfway out the door, she tosses her head back and genuinely laughs, perhaps the first true smile from her tonight.]

I'm glad you enjoyed the flyer, it was custom made you know!

[Five people enter the Archives near midnight. Four imposing figures, masked and clad in makeshift riot armor, surround a small Latina woman with a scarred-up face wearing a floral Hawaiian shirt, white cutoffs, and Birkenstocks despite the temperature. She is carrying a small, cutely wrapped gift box. Each armored figure carries a rifle. They proceed--casually, as if somehow they belonged, as if even inside the Archives this wasn't a bizarre scene--to the Archivist's office, and the guard in front knocks once. It's a bizarrely gentle knock given their intimidating appearance. The woman calls through the door.]

Archivist, you'll have to forgive my truancy, business has been booming. But I did, of course, set aside your purchase!

*the Archivist, given its horrible sleep schedule, is not yet close to passing out going to bed, and Watches them arrive with interest* *politely, it waits until its door is knocked on before opening it.*

How sweet of you! I’d been hoping for your visit.

*it looks over the guards appraisingly, head tilting slightly to the side in quick reflection*

Hm. I normally wouldn’t let so many people in my artifact storage, but you’re a smart woman, and I’m sure you and your people know not to touch anything without asking. We wouldn’t want an accident, would we?

*it takes the key around its neck and opens the door to the Archives proper, waving at its visitors to follow.*

[the-only-queen-that-matters]

It's the way the world works! :}

[There is no malice in the smile. There is no bitterness in her eyes. But it is only because of how long she's had to learn to mask her resentment. The Archivist Sees it still.]

I'm satisfied as well, thank you for the trades. I know how Archivists work, so. We're friends now! I trust that if I ever call on you for information, you'll happily oblige, as I did tonight!

[She stands, and offers her hand to the Archivist to shake.]

[Five people enter the Archives near midnight. Four imposing figures, masked and clad in makeshift riot armor, surround a small Latina woman with a scarred-up face wearing a floral Hawaiian shirt, white cutoffs, and Birkenstocks despite the temperature. She is carrying a small, cutely wrapped gift box. Each armored figure carries a rifle. They proceed--casually, as if somehow they belonged, as if even inside the Archives this wasn't a bizarre scene--to the Archivist's office, and the guard in front knocks once. It's a bizarrely gentle knock given their intimidating appearance. The woman calls through the door.]

Archivist, you'll have to forgive my truancy, business has been booming. But I did, of course, set aside your purchase!

*the Archivist, given its horrible sleep schedule, is not yet close to passing out going to bed, and Watches them arrive with interest* *politely, it waits until its door is knocked on before opening it.*

How sweet of you! I’d been hoping for your visit.

*it looks over the guards appraisingly, head tilting slightly to the side in quick reflection*

Hm. I normally wouldn’t let so many people in my artifact storage, but you’re a smart woman, and I’m sure you and your people know not to touch anything without asking. We wouldn’t want an accident, would we?

*it takes the key around its neck and opens the door to the Archives proper, waving at its visitors to follow.*