[i][b]8:30pm, Last Seed 21
Dibella's House of Common Pleasures[/b][/i]

[sup]With [@Spoopy Scary][/sup]

[hr]

Despite having spent a reasonable amount of time at Dibella's House of Pleasures, Relyssa had found she had not yet become accustomed to the frequent noises that echoed down the hallways. Leaving her room for any reason had to be treated as an extreme sport for the most part - a desperate dash to the bar without any of the patrons making eyes at her. She'd felt secluded as of late, stuck between the plush four walls of her suite, with only wine for company.

At any time when she thought that stepping out was an option, she would take a glimpse from the window and the sight of the pitiful droves of people was enough to remind her to stay locked down for now. There was also the dangerous matter of the bounty on her head. Not that anyone knew that she had the tiara, it did play on her mind - satisfying her ego more than anything.

The knock at the door came as a welcome distraction. Wine in hand she moved to the door, her frame dressed unusually in a white silken outfit, billowy and comfortable - the picture of couture. She had found that in red, the walls simply swallowed her up.

She gave the stranger a curious look up and down, her gaze was just about inscrutable until the corners of her mouth pulled into a tiny smirk. On any other day, she might well have snapped at the stranger's abrupt greeting -- but, she had been terribly [i]bored[/i]. "I don't know that you could afford my rates..." the Breton answered. "But is that truly how you address all of the women here, hmm?" she remarked, arching a brow at him as she comfortably leaned against the frame of the door.

“I, uh… what?” The Imperial man stammered, then suddenly blinked. He looked around at his spot in the hallway, back at the door, and back to the woman. “This isn’t right,” he muttered. “There were supposed to be mercenaries… sells-- [i]shit![/i] Lying fucking merchants…”

Finch huffed a deep, soothing sigh and combed sun-tanned fingers through his thick and messy black hair. His smell was a mix of sweat, ocean spray, and the ale he had spilled on an earlier stranger, a stark contrast from the floral scents perfuming the upper floors. He looked back up at Relyssa with tired blue eyes, resigning himself to the twist of poor fortune he thought had befallen him.

“I, um... I’m sorry milady, I must’ve confused you for someone else. Uh, I’ll excuse myself then.” He then quickly added, “By your leave.”

Clearing her throat with a soft and small chuckle, Relyssa eyed Finch once more, stepping back only slightly from the doorframe, feigning some surprise at his words, as if in an attempt to disarm his embarrassment. “The language!” she laughed out, blinking quickly. “My goodness,” she added, rounding off with a sigh. She gave a quick side glance at the large, bulky item that he carried. Obviously he was seeking Gustav; who was staying in the next room over. Relyssa’s curiosity had been perfectly piqued, and it wasn't often that profitable opportunity literally knocked, especially not an opportunity to put her in Gustav’s company once more. 

“I hope you’re not implying that a woman like me couldn’t be a mercenary,” she added, the giggly facade being swept aside quickly for another raised brow. “Hmmm?”

“No, hence my earlier address.” Finch said impatiently. There was a fidgety twitch in his foot, like a spinner working the treadle of his wheel. “I mean no disrespect milady, but if you would speak plainly? I have very little time.”

It was by this point that it became clear the young sailor’s voice wasn’t as irritable so much as it was anxious, like he was in a rush to be somewhere and for a very important reason. One could construe such fleetness as a mild panic, were he in any less control of himself. The pleading look in his eyes spoke to at least that much, as did his fingers twisting around each other as if he were about to break them. He didn’t have time to play her games, he simply wanted to get straight to business so that the Everard bastard wouldn’t have his head. Part of him also wanted to resent her, just based on how he was dressed; fine clothes and jewelry adorning his fair, smooth skin, manicured nails and luscious hair, all signs of a spoiled woman too far removed from society to understand any real struggle -- but to do so took too much energy that he had no intention of wasting, and he was far too distracted to care about such things. So, he instead settled for ambivalence. 

“So come in then,” Relyssa answered. Even if Finch was short of time, she had nothing but time on her hands. “Take a seat, and a deep breath while you’re at it.” she said as she turned on her back on him to walk across the room - her hand motioning to an armchair set up by a small table. 

Her mind wandered curiously to what the stranger was looking for, he was in desperate need of assistance -- perhaps simply a bodyguard? It couldn’t be, as anxious and fidgeting as he was -- he had the appearance of a capable individual. It was clear that there was a shadow of threat at his heels, and that interested her enough to not send him straight along to Gustav. Maybe she really [i]could[/i] be of assistance to him. 

Clearing her throat, she placed down her glass of wine and instead reached for a container of water, and a clean glass from the sideboard at her bed. “So tell me, what is ailing you -- what brings you to my door?”

“Like I said, a job.” Finch sighed as he paced his way into Relyssa’s room. There was a bit of relief that took some weight off his shoulders, but there was still the matter of negotiating a contract. He took a deep breath like Relyssa said, and sat down, shifting uncomfortably to accommodate the shield strapped to his back. “Though I need to ask, how… flexible is your company? I have to admit to you, the work isn’t exactly, uh… scrupulous?”

The young man twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he awaited Relyssa’s answer.

While pouring out the water, Relyssa took note of Finch's manner, and at the ominous tone behind his words. This was interesting indeed. Glass in hand, she turned again to face him, with a smile. "Rest assured, I don't believe in sending out just [i]anyone[/i] to work. I would send only those most suited to the task at hand, so as not to create any liabilities..." The Breton took care in placing the refreshments beside Finch, another soft movement of her hand was the indicator to drink it.

"They are as flexible as they need to be, and they take their work seriously and get results." Taking an uncharacteristically soft approach, she sat down opposite Finch, offering him another smile as she crossed one leg comfortably over the other. "I can see that this is of great importance to you," she remarked, tilting her head inquisitively. "But I have to ask," she added, before he could speak up, "are you in some kind of trouble?"

“I work for someone much more powerful than me who wishes to see his bidding done in a timely manner.” Finch said simply. “Within a day. Without signing an agreement, I can’t share too much with you. Simply put, contracting a third party allows us to take some of the heat off of him. Creates discord. Something valuable was stolen from him by someone very dangerous, and I want your help to retrieve it. So, technically nothing about this is illegal…”

Relyssa nodded slowly, closing her eyes as she thought it over. “I understand,” she said sympathetically. “I’ve been the victim of thievery too,” she paused to run her tongue over her teeth, narrowing her eyes that glanced off into the middle distance. 

After the momentary pause, she resumed a warm expression having mulled it over. “I’m sure we can be of assistance. My only concern of course, being just how [i]dangerous[/i] this thief is… I don’t know that I want to put the lives of my good men and women in jeopardy for a petty squabble between a thief and your powerful employer… Sometimes such efforts can prove... “ she paused again, meeting Finch’s eyes with her own - a cold gaze. “To simply not be worth the risk. You must understand, yes?”

“If they cannot handle a thief, then I’m not sure if I want to endanger your men and women either.” Finch said, trying his best to keep pace with Relyssa’s careful maneuvers.“I won’t lie to you. I don’t think I’m as well spoken as you, and I can’t pretend I know how all this works… but I don’t feel comfortable telling you the name of a score without reaching an agreement. If you decided to contact them, that would put a target on my back. Survival I [i]do[/i] know well. But if it helps to sweeten the deal, I can provide a down payment.”

“I like you,” Relyssa commented, smiling in Finch’s direction. “But you’re asking me to put my blind faith in this job, and in you. I’ve no doubt in your own skill, and I want to trust you, just as I’d like [i]you[/i] to trust that my mercenaries are more than up for such a task. I just…” the Breton paused again, a smile flickering over her lips as she brushed her hair from her shoulder. “I value their lives, and I value them personally,” she shrugged nonchalantly, breathing out a soft chuckle. “A down payment would do well to build the trust between us, of course.” 

“Alright then.” He said. There was a definitive certainty in his voice. “I’m thankful, really,” he commented as he untied his sash from around his shoulder, “this thing has been a pain in the ass.”

As he began to untie the fabric around the large, bulky object previously on his back he added, “Also, if it sweetens the deal at all, I already have a plan to retrieve the item of interest… and I’m open to any input. All I ask of your people is to help me execute it. Here—“

The old bedsheet was finally thrown off the mysterious object for Relyssa to behold a shield. It was wide and tall, and scaled with thick dragonhide. The rarity of such material after the Dragonborn slew most of them was second only to the rarity of its craftsmanship. The glimmering sheen across the scales reflected the orange candlelight from behind, as if the harsh glow of dragon fire flashed across its surface. His sharp eyes watched Relyssa carefully, expecting that she’d know full well the value of such an item.

The immediate effect that the vision of the scaled shield aglow with flame did it. She was not expecting it.

Relyssa flinched, only just, in her chair. It was as if she had been sat in complete darkness, only for someone to tear back the curtains to blinding light. The opening of a window that she had done well for years to keep closed, barred down, and covered.

Frozen in her seat, her hand gripped at the arm of the chair enough for her skin to burn a hot white. A memory resurfaced, clawing its way out of its grave with absolute vengeance. What was simply the chorus of pleasure in the walls of the house, turned to bitter and piercing screams in her ears. The rattling gurgles of death and unbridled screams of agony, encircling.

"Take that," she stammered out, averting her gaze and removing herself from her seat in her attempts to veil her fear. Once more she turned her back on Finch. In her chest she felt her ribcage as it tightened, her legs held her upright only by the sheer force of will to not fall in front of him. "Take it next door, my associate," she muttered. What had been a bored attempt at obtaining information, had left her feeling ill and like the rug had been yanked from under [i]her[/i] feet. There was a cold and uncomfortable sweat on her brow. "He'll issue the paperwork..."

At first there was smiling, when Finch noticed the impact had stricken Relyssa; then a frown when her reaction seemed… far more severe than he could have anticipated. He was on the edge of his seat, ready to help, only to falter when Relyssa began to speak and finally signed her verbal consent to a deal. He smiled again. “Of course, milady,” he said. “I look forward to working with you.”