Derren Krenshaw

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Goemon knew he would have to watch for any action Galina might take. This was the end of it all, and someone of her caliber was unlikely to take it lying down. As the closer one to her, he would have to be quick to react if it came down to it, and he knew that fact without a doubt.

Yet still, after so long pulling strings and planting bribes, after a day of making sure everything would work, after a night of fast-paced conversation trying to remain one step ahead of his better... Goemon fell lax. His discipline slipped, smile widening as Galina took a moment to stare dumbly at Takahiro seated before her, allowing himself a moment of pleasure long denied.

And he paid for it with an elbow, swiftly delivered to the center of his chest.

He saw it coming at the last moment, immediately began moving, trying to lessen the impact and grab Galina's arm in the process. He succeeded -somewhat- in the first, sent stumbling back only a couple steps, staggered but still standing.

Takahiro, however, had plenty of time to prepare, to compose himself for whatever might happen. He watched Galina carefully from the moment she appeared, predator observing prey, and reacted the instant he realized her choice.

As Galina threw her elbow into Goemon beside her, Takahiro was moving. Dropping the jar and snatching his cane from the floor, he stepped over the low table in the first of a series of rapid bounds. No limp was present in his leg now, the cane drawn back beside him, one hand gripping an end to point the other out in front. He surged forwards as Galina moved away, crossing distance quickly and, as soon as he saw he was close enough, driving that cane forwards as if it were his own fist.

If the cane had truly been of bamboo, it would have bent, had sprung away with barely any harm done. But it's exotic, wooden shell concealed heavy steel that did not bend, that instead drove into Galina's back, shoving her into the wall and allowing Takahiro the time he needed to fully catch up.

"Please- Sit." Stepping forwards, Takahiro grabbed her by the shoulder, releasing the pin only to pull her back and shove her into the room she had tried to escape. He stepped in behind, Goemon finally coming to his senses and shutting the door, leaving the two master spies -Russian and Japanese- alone in the quarters.

"Have drink." He repeated again, pausing with a frown as he regarded the spilled bottle of sake and disrupted table. Staff -for it was more that than cane, truly- held at the ready, he stood in front of the closed door, watching for Galina's next move. "Or not. Try running again?"

On Winding Roads (Lillian & Derren )

Alexi chuckled nervously along with Katherine as they began walking once more, their current trials complete. Laughter was... good, at least, though even to his eyes, she didn't seem quite as composed as she had been before. Did she not like fighting? Though liking battle and bloodshed might be cause for more concern, but he had expected... well... he wasn't sure what he had expected.

"One of the sisters should still be awake," He mused the thoughts aloud as they walked, drawing ever closer to the grounds of the Church. "They would probably be the most skilled at sewing, be it cloth or skin... their quarters are to the left as we enter the courtyard, just behind the hedges."

They made the rest of their way in thankful peace, the grand courtyard opening up before them before too long. Though night had settled fully upon the city, the moon was allowed to shine uncovered, working together with what flickering lights peeked from nearby windows and posts to illuminate their way. Tall, carefully trimmed hedges walled off much of the area around the church grounds, leading arrivals into the cobbled courtyard proper while shielding all but the cathedral itself from view. Well-planned for an organization devoted to both the privacy and seclusion of it's members, as well as to the glory of their god, and the structures that stood for it's worship.

For the two who entered now, however, it was the hedges and what lay behind that was of greater import.

Alexi led Katherine to the side almost immediately after entering the courtyard, through a narrow gap concealed from casual view by one of the many blossoming trees that dotted the public grounds. It opened into rows of low, stone buildings, chimneys poking out through roofs at regular intervals, with only the occasional light seen through heavy blinds.

Their destination was one of the last structures in the row, Alexi allowing an audible sigh of relief to pass from his lips at the sight of light and movement within. Treating those injured was something many of the clergy had practice in, and helping one who was friends with the church always led to benefit both parties in the long run. But none of the Sisters would be pleased to be woken at this hour, or at all. As it was, his tentative knock was answered swiftly by rustling movement from the other side of the door, pausing only once the wooden portal opened, revealing a young, shorter woman with hair and figure firmly concealed beneath the habit of her order.

"Who the- Alexander?" The woman's face hardened as she spied the scribe before her. "I know you understand the rules of the church- and to bring a lady home with you at this hou-oh!"

"Sister Edda," Alexi waiting until the Sister paused, hand rising to cover her mouth as she spied the wound on Katherine's cheek. "Pray, forgive me for disturbing you this late. My companion here was injured protecting me from a robbery, I was hoping you might be able to help?"

"Yes, yes of course." Sister Edda offered a slight curtsey towards Katherine, before beckoning the armored woman forwards. "Please, come in. It would be the least I could do after helping our friend here."

"I'll be outside." Alexi nodded towards Katherine as he spoke, quietly glad it had been Edda who was awake. Most of the Sisters -most of the clergy, really- were talented with medicine, but Sister Edda had a much more open, more welcoming personality. Likely due to her age -quite young if Alexi knew anything- but it made her a popular public face of the church... and meant he only suffered a minor scolding for his arrival.

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

"Certainly, Miss Demidova."

Goemon accepted Galina's arm easily, moving alongside the Lady Spy on their way towards the lower decks. There wasn't much space for 'back ways' aboard the Empress, and what few there were would hardly be known to the carefree guests aboard. So the pair took one of the common ways down, meeting only few who had likewise left the dinner early, or hadn't attended to begin with. Rare and rarer still as they continued on, until not even the footsteps of others could be heard.

They spoke little, but it wasn't necessary at this point. To those few who might have passed by, they were one of many couples -albeit more exotic than most- out to enjoy the cruise together. It was a ruse Goemon was content to commit to... as much as it took for appearances, at least. But to the those aboard, appearances were everything, weren't they?

"Just a little further, his room is the last one on the hall."

The hall in question stretched back to the stern of the ship, as if trying to reach the sea itself. One of the lowest decks, the pitch and pull of the massive vessel was felt more strongly here than anywhere else, so close to the keel. Even the Empress could not completely ignore the swell of waves that struck her sides or rolled beneath her, and while Goemon felt at home in the narrow, subtly shifting corridors, he made sure to keep an eye on the Lady. It wouldn't do to allow such a woman to lose her balance, of course, or to succumb to sea sickness.

Not that one such as Galina was likely to do either. A spy of her caliber would either be far too experienced to be unnerved by the shifting ship... or far too composed to let such weakness show.

Finally, they reached the end of the hall, Goemon extricating himself from Galina to take one step closer to the door. Reaching out, it rapped his knuckles sharply against the heavy steel. Once, pause, then twice more in succession.

"There we go, he should be expecting us now." Reaching for the latch, he pulled the door wide, bowing slightly as he swept his free hand before him. "After you, my lady."

~-~-~

Takahiro finished his meal quickly, but remained content to stay seated, ever-so-slowly sipping from his own shallow cup. His staff rested on the ground behind the low table, end close enough to reach should he need to rise, but otherwise out of the way.

He pondered many things in the time allowed to him. What this night might mean, what importance his continuing mission still held, what his 'superiors' -or more importantly, his father- might think if they discovered this little 'aside'. Some might understand the strive to regain some measure of honor lost... but only some. To the rest? Well, it would be surprising if they thought he had any honor to lose.

Such was the fate of a glorified criminal. A lifetime of smuggling, bribery, extortion and more might have allowed Takahiro and his clan to rise to a rank equal to the Samurai their country so hated yet revered, but only the hatred seemed to have come with that ascension. To the true Samurai, he and his own were less than people, doubly so for having the 'shame' to claim themselves equal to the warrior-scholars. To the nobility, he and his own were a tool to use, one to be thrown away the moment it was no longer needed, just as they were doing with the Samurai themselves. And to the common folk, he was either a relic of the past abusing position for whatever liberties he could take, or a petty thug who happened to make good with the right dirty noble.

It wasn't a winning scenario by any means... but when had it ever been?

Tonight would likely be the same, but for once the thought didn't bother Takahiro in the least. Tonight, petty as it might be, unwise as it might be, he was a leader in the only way his clan knew how to lead: by making it clear that if you wanted to insult or injure one of their own... you had better be ready to expect retribution.

And so he remained calm, looking up only when the knocks on the door told him Goemon had arrived. He kept his composure calm as the door swung open, and moved only when he saw Galina step into view, raising the ceramic jug of sake up for her to see.

"Missu Demidova- a pleasure!" He smiled brightly towards the woman, as if he had just happened to stumble upon the one he had been searching for, ever since that wonderful night at the Winchesters. "Please! Sit, have drink!"

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

"This very moment works just fine with me, Miss Demidova."

Goemon offered both ladies a polite smile and second bow, setting his silver down and pushing the plate slightly away from him. Mimicking Galina's own movements, he dabbed what residue might be left upon his lips with his own napkin, and rose after both Ladies had stood, offering for them to go first.

He worked hard to keep from seeming eager, to remain as calm and methodical as he had been since first approaching the two Ladies. Finally he was almost there. It wasn't time to celebrate yet, wasn't time to ease up yet, but it was getting close. That thought alone was a balm to the Voice of Takahiro, to finally be able to see the ending his boss had been looking towards the whole time.

"I would like to take your invitation to accompany you, if that is all right." It struck him as wise to give the two an excuse to keep an eye on him... and the reverse was true as well. There was little more suspicious than a spy trying to get alone, so simple gallantry seemed the best option. "And when you are ready, I can bring you straight down to Mr. Selvin's room, will that work?"

On Winding Roads (Lillian & Derren )

It took far too long before their attackers fled, before the echoing stomps of rushing armor gave way to guardsmen. It seemed to Alexi that he had been yelling for ages, that Katherine had been fighting for ages, and he would listen to no argument to the contrary.

Still, both he and his escort were safe, the footpads were gone, and the guards were here.

"We- *Ahem* We were attacked." He managed to get his voice back down to a more respectable tone, moving back over to Katherine and the guardsmen. He nodded appreciatively towards them both, a grateful smile cross his lips. "His Grace bless you both, the thugs who attacked us ran off as soon as they heard your steps."

He offered them each a low bow, before turning back towards Katherine. She seemed slightly... unwell. As if she had taken too much drink -or possibly food?- but aside from the cut on her cheek seemed unharmed. Part of him wanted to ask about the wound, if there was a risk of poison on the blade that scored her or if it should be treated now, but he held his tongue. He knew something of medical theory, but had no practice. Again, it seemed wiser to trust that she would know how best to treat her own injuries.

Or, at least, to wait until a little later before pressing.

"And thank you, Miss Galt." His smile widened now, genuine appreciation to accompany his bow. "For... everything you've done tonight, really."

Alexi wasn't quite sure what to think about being saved by his escort mere minutes after hiring her, but well-earned gratitude seemed to be appropriate. Part of him prayed fervently that this little scuffle would not set the precedent for their future travels -he wanted to actually make it to Avantshire- but the rest murmured quiet, heartfelt thanks to the heavens.

They came in time, after all.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Semyon had stepped up to the misty, slow-flowing surface of Daisy's portal before Max spoke. The Wight paused at the words, looking back to the man, then to the young Reaper, then to the gate.

Then, he sighed, a sound heavy as the northern winds echoing from the depths of his form.

"We all go through." He said, finally, shaking his head as if it might convince himself of the words. "No less."

It was the only choice. Even with Daisy's 'now-or-never' warning ringing within his skull, Semyon knew he wasn't going to step through that portal right now. She knew something he didn't, something important enough to stay in this place. Reaper or not, the land of Death did not seem any kinder to her as it had been to him... and Max was staying to. The one who had attacked Daisy from the start, who seemed to have found his senses, but had turned too quickly from one extreme to the other.

If it had been just Daisy left behind... No. Not even then, and certainly not now.

Settling in with his back to the portal, the Wight kept his eyes on the area around them. If Max wanted to try and distract Fenris -and knew of a way to do that- Semyon couldn't stop him. He could, however, hold off anything else that came their way, and once more let Daisy do what she needed to.

So exactly what he had been doing until now, with possibly less chance of leaving.

He wasn't sure how, but Semyon felt another heavy sigh welling up within. It didn't shake his resolve, however, and he stood steady to face whatever he had to before the three of them could leave.

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Goemon bowed as low as he could, being seated beside the two ladies at their table.

"My apologies." For a moment, his eyes hung solely on the older Klara, the woman who until now had remained silent and apart from their little conversation. It seemed, despite appearances, that Galina was not entirely in charge, her counterpart ready to step forwards should the desire catch her fancy. At this point, it wasn't really an issue -it seemed Galina had fully bitten the bait laid out for her- but the information remained interesting nonetheless.

He wouldn't be trapping the young lady with his words anytime soon.

But his true task only became more appetizing.

It was hard, but Goemon kept his features contrite and apologetic. Pretentious indeed, and such a focus on appearances! Oh no, despite the differences in their cultures, all that Klara said only affirmed to Goemon that there was quite little to be unfamiliar of. Nobility was nobility, despite the country, despite the culture. The Voice would never question his master's apparent fixation on Galina since the party back at the Winchester Estate. But this? Coaxing in those well-used to their lofty titles, leading them to humiliating revelation? Oh yes, this was something very familiar, something very welcome.

Just a little longer.

Goemon eyed the fish before him for a moment, then shrugged. "It seems I should have requested it raw. Mr. Selvin should be within his quarters belowdecks by now, I can show you to him whenever you would like... He truly does prefer to keep to himself most of the time, and the idea of eating up here-" He paused a moment to look around the room filled with it's gaudy occupants. "-seemed to discomfort him, so I did not press him on that."

~-~-~

Kneeling comfortably upon the floor of Mr. Selvin's small -but private- quarters near the bottom of the ship, Souma enjoyed a simple meal to himself. Raw fish was delicately sliced and rested on rolled rice, laid out before him on a low wooden bench standing just before his knees. A ceramic bottle stood at one corner, occasionally used to fill one of the two small ceramic cups with a clear liquid.

Souma sipped the cool sake and nibbled away at his food with easy patience, knowing eventually what would come to pass. Daisuke knew how to reach the upper levels without being seen, avoiding the common halls that Goemon would use to descend. Mr. Selvin had ended up more than willing to leave with the Fist, well-bribed by the allure of kind weather, eager students and his own small boat. The knowledge they gained from the older engineer wouldn't be that much, most likely, but it was something, and would give those samurai who had been too proud to leave their country someone to learn from as soon as they realized how obsolete they had truly became.

Of course, small gains aside, this little mission would be the one where Souma could meet the young Galina Demidova again. The lady who's company had charmed him so before, right up until she left him sleeping within the room he had meant to rob.

He never did get to see her off that night. A lapse in politesse he would be sure to correct this evening.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

I must apologize again, it seems. This week is kicking me in my most tenderest areas, but I aim to have a post up tomorrow.

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Goemon watched with a curious eye as Galina spoke, idly cutting a bite of salmon from the filet with the side of his fork. He chewed it slowly, meeting the Russian's gaze, answering only after he had fully swallowed.

"I have..." The fork moved down to remove another bite, though he didn't take it yet. He was thrown off by the sudden transition, a simple comment had shaken her so badly? Was it a trap? Another little needle to test his mettle? Or was it an opportunity?

"Americans are more welcoming, more... accommodating, than say, the British. It is closer to my country as well, making it the perfect place to practice english." He took the bite, gauging her reaction, the words bubbling up in his mind as his plan of action took form.

"I was in Seattle for a time, in Washington. This mission came up as I was starting to head south along the coast, and I'll likely return after we are done."

All quite true... in a technical sense. It was still something of a surprise, that she would speak so openly of Takahiro. Even if Goemon had not known of the man, such an admission was an open door for another spy to peer through. Given all she had done to test him, given the skill and aptitude she had shown, it was almost required that he press at the sudden crack- if only a little.

The Voice set his fork gently upon the plate before him, cautiously meeting the young lady's gaze.

"I... forgive me, if this goes too far just say so. But part of my hope tonight is that we each leave with a higher opinion of the other's country." Any opening to indebt Galina to him had to be pressed. In essence, Goemon was no longer needed for this mission, Galina knew enough to take over herself if she wished. Oh, he would object of course, but even if she did go along with him, what guarantee was there that she would ever choose to reciprocate the favor? Insurance was needed, some way to salvage a hint of honor from this botched mission.

At least, that's what he would think if actually needing her help for this mission. So that is what he thought, fully committed to the act Takahiro required him to play.

"Would you like at all, to further make that man's acquaintance?" Galina didn't expect him to know Takahiro, and indeed, Goemon shouldn't know him. But knowledge was a great weapon to a spy, and the time it would take to find a Samurai in the states was well worth the insurance. "From what you said, he sounds much like those who left my country to become students of the world. If so, he may still be in America, and not hard to find... do you know his clan name- his surname? It would all-but point you to him."

He picked up his fork once more, taking another bite and watching Galina with curious eyes. He wasn't sure if he doubted she'd take the bait, or if he expected her to, but he had to try. And it was certainly true what he said. If she wished, he would lead her right to Souma Takahiro.

Even if she didn't wish it, actually. And far, far sooner than she might expect.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Scuffling and splashing sounded behind Semyon, but the Wight could take no time to look back. He drove against the pressing dead, knowing vaguely that Daisy had said something - a question? - but with no time to find out what it was.

The scuffling died, shouting began, and Semyon continued to fight. He wanted to look back, to know what was happening, who was- just to know. But no. There were too many in front of him, too many around, some managing to slip past and he couldn't even spare the time to catch them, more piling on to try and drive him into the-

Cold.

It chilled him to a standstil, froze him in a shudder that lasted well after the heavy blast had passed him by. It threw away the pressing dead, freed him of his troubles for the moment, and iced the waters all around. In a way it was welcome. In a brutal, uncaring way, like when a blizzard happens to kill more foes than comrades.

"What-"

A wall of roaring water came rushing up around him, gaze turning to find both Max and Daisy held within. Max was calmed- calming, the reaper apparently managing to get past his sudden desire for blood. He was unwounded by bullets as well, though whether that was a good thing or not remained conflicted in the mind of the undead soldier.
And through the wall, past his comrades, was Fenris.

"Calm? Good." Semyon strode over to the two, nodding simply at Max and sparing a moment for a questioning gaze toward Daisy. "Did you ask- Nevermind. We should leave. Soon... Now."

He took position by the two, facing out, eyeing the form of the god-wolf with growing uncertainty. If he was here, he might be dead, or simply grew tired of whatever Daisy had been doing to him. Either way, they needed to be gone.

"Can we? Leave?" He didn't look back at the others. The wall seemed to be failing, he would need to see when the first dead surged forth again.

Though he hoped he wouldn't have to.