In the cells

Tenebrae - Wednesday, November 02, 2016, 9:53 PM

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A01: Jail Cells *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The cells at the Watch are often often full with various people: the usual, returning drunks, the occasional shifty halfling, and then a few Korites who appear to have a rotating door policy. One cell in particular is labeled, 'Sandy.' Visitors may stand outside the cells to speak, while being overseen by an officer.

It's a normal day in the city jail. There's a couple of drunks in one cell, a dour looking halfling in another, and a half-orc in a third who's busy filing one of her tusks to a sharpened point. Charming. With a loud thump the door opens, and a city guard in armor walks in, looking a lot like he's been grinding his teeth for a while. Immediately following him is a golden haired human, clad in a cotton dress made to look more expensive than it actually is (the needlework illusion fails somewhat up close) and holding her head proudly in spite of the manacles around her wrists, connected with a precisely nine inch long chain.

"It would've worked," she declares, for the benefit of the person behind her. "Our outfits could've been a bit better suited. I'll definitely grant you that point. Maybe we should've claimed to be from Rune instead, since we, y'know, *know* Rune, but still. We didn't exactly get kicked out straight away."

"Except it didn't," says the black-haired young woman sitting next to the blond. Aside from their hair and dress, the two look completely identical. The dark-haired one gives her manacles a halfheated, experimental tug, and resigns herself to being led to their cell. "It didn't because Mother was never high society, she just liked to *act* like she was impressive."

Selia pats the half-orc gently on the arm. "Oy, don't fret. Da kids are at yer mom's, an' I talked ta Frankie, is fine iffen yer late." News at which said oruch nods and relaxes a little, but makes the guard stiffen... seeing as how -he- didn't let the little lutch in.

The Guard opens a cell, the door creaking with the rust of ages as it swings wide; the guard stands beside her, and gestures in with one hand. "Alright, 'ladies'," he intones, "Your sleeping quarters. Also daytime quarters, until further notice."

Delilah moves over half a step while walking past the cell with the drunks in it, but otherwise keeps up with the guard in front of her. "Well, no, it didn't work," she concedes. "But it could have. As far as proof of concept goes, it... proved that we could get a couple of cheap dresses and manage to get past the doorman." She pauses at the entrance to the cell, peering in as if she could somehow now see something that she couldn't while the door was closed. "Well, we've slept in worse," she pronounces, as she steps inside and makes room for Donna. She turns around, and cranes her head to get a look at Selia, where she's busy consoling the half-orc. She purses her lips, and hmms softly, before looking back to Donna. "What do you suppose the bucket in the corner is for?"

"D," the dark-haired woman sighs, "think about it. No outhouse, no water-closet.... if we're *lucky,* that bucket's just our chamber pot." Shaking her head, she passes the Guard without an upward glance, all but throwing herself down on one of the narrow bed-boards. "Also, I just want to point out: we're going to miss tomorrow's fights."

The wind howls for a moment, a cold draft setting the lights to flicker a bit, one of the smaller manalamps goes entirely out. Selia strolls casually across the hall to peer at the new arrivals. Which is interesting since the half-orcs cell door didn't open. "Aye, should be a blanket by da bucket, ya can 'ang a privacy screen iffen ya want. Is 'ooks on the ceilin. Wot ya in fer 'xactly anyways?" The words are thickly accented, a mix of trade speak, low Charn, undercommon, and a bit of something else. The little lutchs hands flutter as she talks, not quite Handspeech, but enough to add emphasis to certain words and phrases.

"...Oh!" Delilah's eyebrows rise, and surprise turns to a rather crestfallen look. "...You're right, we will. I'm sorry Donna, maybe we should've planned this for... I dunno, for a different day or something." She pauses, sighing softly as the guard shuts the cell door behind her and her dark haired twin, the keys rattling at his hips as he makes an exit. "But... well, I mean, at least the wine was good, right? And that one young lord was definitely eyeing you up. Well, until the guard showed up and arrested us, anyway. You'd think he'd have at least manacled us somewhere more private." She settles down, and hmmms softly. "Now, how do we get out before tomorrow..." She taps her fingertips together; her thinking interupted as she snaps her gaze up to the Lucht outside her shared cell. "Oh, uhm, hi there," she greets. "We pretended to be nobles so we could crash one of their parties. We had them fooled for almost an hour. The wine *was* good." She pauses, and lifts both hands so she can scratch behind

one ear. "Hey, uhm... what's the punishment for that, anyway? Maybe we should've looked into that. They aren't going to chop our heads off or anything, right?"

"If we're unlucky, they'll make us pay for the food and wine we 'stole,'" Donna grumbles. "Otherwise... we're probably going to be shut here for a few days to teach us a lesson or something, I don't know. Don't really feel like getting a *proper* patrol out hunting for us for breaking out of jail, though." Shrugging, she laces her fingers behind her head, leaning back against the wall. After a few moments' silence, she notes, "....Wine *was* pretty good though."

Selia considers, and shrugs. "Overnight, most like. Most dey just toss ya out. Musta been some offical ta impressive iffen dey got da Guard mixed in. Or ya ticked off a Captain or sumthin. Learn yer lesson don't do it 'gain, dat sorta thing. Name's Selia, Selia Shadowkin, I'ma Dancer."

Delilah doesn't look entirely convincend, but shrugs her shoulders, "Well, as long as no ticked off nobles come pressing for an execution," she comments. "And yes, you're probably right. Showing up uninvited at a private party with the well-to-do is one thing, escaping from jail is another." She taps her fingertips against each other, and smiles at Selia. "This is my twin sister Donna, and I'm Delilah. That's a neat trick you do, by the way." She continues tapping her fingertips, and glances back at Donna, "The truffles were pretty good, too. You know, we probably should've just snuck into the kitchen. I doubt anyone would've noticed if we'd just washed a few dishes or something."

Donna lifts a pair of fingers in a cursory wave, cracking open one eye at Delilah and shrugging in tacit agreement. "....Probably."

Selia shrugs absently. "Everybody got skills o' some sort. Anyways, depends on da party an' da way ya do it. Ya try ta sneak in, yer sayin dey too dim ta notice, dey take it personal. Ya just waltz right in, make a show of it, yer part o da entertainment, dey laugh and let ya be. Maybe. Ya try ta wash da dishes, dem wot been 'ired ta do it get mad at ya. Dey work 'ard fer dat job, ain't 'avin sum scab come an' take their livin away."

Delilah hmms softly. She shrugs her shoulders and finally getes around to taking a seaton the sleeping board beside Donna, with the chain between her wrists clinking softly as she moves. "Well, that's an interesting point," she acknowledges. "We wouldn't want to make the kitchen staff angry; Gods know what you'd find in your food. Or eat without finding, which could be worse." Maybe missing the point slightly, she holds up her hands in front of her, and snaps the chain taught. "Aren't they supposed to take these things off? They're rather uncomfortable, as it turns out."

"Kind of the point, D," Donna says through another sigh. "Could be we might end up swinging on each other. Can't have that, so..." she lifts up her arms, tugging on the manacle chains once, then returning her hands back behind her head.

Selia frowns mildly, and nods. "Aye, dey usual come off. Jus da violent sort git left on, and den 'ooked to da wall. Rowdy sort, just gives 'em a chain weapon ta brawl wit, don't no one want dat. 'ere, let me see, is a trick ta wear 'em comfortable like. Anyway, reckon ya new 'round 'ere? I ain't never seen ya 'fore."

Delilah uhms softly, "Well, we've never been to jail before," she agrees, "But we've been in the city for a while. We walked here from Rune, more or less. Had a couple of detours along the way, you know how it goes." She stands up, stretches with an arch of her spine, and walks up to the edge of the bars. She holds her arms up in front of her, and wiggles her fingers in the air. "So... what do we do? I dunno Donna, this might be a good thing to know, in case we ever end up wearing them again."

"'S true," Donna grunts, opening one eye and scooting over on the board to get a better view of what Delilah and Selia are doing.

GAME: Selia rolls escape artist: (14)+20: 34

Selia shimies up the bars quick as a spider, and reaches through, arms short but enough to reach without too much awkwardness. "Da inside o ya wrist tends ta be da tender part, so ya don't want da weight on dat side. And iffen da chain goes sidelike, whole thing twists cross ya skin. Want da weight ta go straight down, no twisting. Careful nay ta rub on da ball o ya wrist neither, can rub da skin right off. Iffen ya got some, slip bit o padding 'neath da metal 'elps a lot. But iffen ya twist da lock just right..." The halfling pulls back, taking the removed manacles with her. "...pretty comfy all 'round."

The golden-haired twin ohs! "...Yeah, that definitely is a neat trick," she agrees. "I think I like that part the best, but the rest sounds like good advice too, just in case we happen to get manacled up again and don't have a talented lucht around to help us out." she rubs her wrists, one after the other. "Mind doing my sister's wrists, too? Otherwise I'd rather put those back on, wouldn't be fair. ...I wonder if the guard will notice, when he comes back?"

Donna's eyebrows rise as her gaze turns to Selia. The dark-haired woman doesn't seem terribly surprised by the idea that Delilah may choose to put the manacles back on, but she *does* have a good deal if interest in the idea that she may not have to wear the chains, despite her sullen, laconic bearing.

Selia nods, draping the chain over her shoulder and reaching through again. "Easy 'nuff. like said, should 'ave come off. Guard don't like it, can take it up wit -me-. Ya get caught, ya do yer time, fair trade. But ta make it worse dat it got ta be, -we- don't do dat. We're da -good- guys." Selia bristles a little, obviously having Opinions on the matter. "Anyway, wot ya do when ya ain't goin ta parties?"

Delilah rubs her wrists a moment longer, before she stands up to stretch her arms over her head once more, then out to her sides. "Well damn, that feels really good," she observes. "It's amazing how much the little things in life really matter when you suddenly can't have them anymore... like being able to have your arms more then six inches apart." She wanders back over to the sleeping board, and settles down to watch Donna get her manacles removed in turn. "Well, we're adventurers, I suppose," she adds. "So we do that. Or we just find mischief to get into. Sneaking into a noble's party isn't the half of it, but we never do anything that isn't harmless."

Donna heaves off the board, approaching the bars and lifting her hands to put the chains within reach. Runes, apparently branded on her arm beneath her skin, begin to glow dully, but go dark a few heartbeats later. "S'good money, adventuring," she grunts.

Selia nods, deft fingers working over the manacles faster than most could work with a key. "Good place ta learn sum tricks too. Dangerous, mind ya, been close ta killed more dan once meself. But worth it iffen ya enjoy dat sorta thing. Been 'way fer a while meself, trying ta 'elp sum freinds. Came back cause dat Heth bloke is bad news. Bad as bad gets."

"Yes, that he is," Delilah acknowledges. "Definitely an issue, that boy. Possibly something that a couple of small potatoes like Donna and I should stay out of the way of." She brushes a few strands of her out of her face, and smirks, "Well, the grand boy himself, anyway. Maybe not his minions. ...Personally, I love adventuring, both the thrill and the reward."

Donna nods her thanks as the chains come off, rubbing her wrists as she steps back from the bars. "D," she says, eyebrow rising, "you're doing that thing again. Where your mouth runs the same speed as your thoughts?"

Selia grins, and stays put, apparently perfectly comfortable hanging from bars several feet off the ground. "Long as don't run faster than ya think, ain't so bad." More serious, she nods to the previously glowing runes, and inquires softly. "Wot's dat 'bout, then?"

Delilah opens her mouth to say something, then promptly, and audible, clamps it shut. Her cheeks color a soft red, and she clasps her hands as if her wrists had been manacled once more. "Uhm... oh," she mumbles, and suddenly takes a great interest in her knees.

Donna snorts, amused, and knocks her knuckles against Delilah's shoulder. Looking at the indicated arm, she shrugs, backing up and dropping onto her board. "....Birthmark, sort of," she says after a moment. "It's complicated."

Selia shrugs mildly. "You ain't goin nowhere, and I got time. Is fine iffen ya don't wanna talk 'bout it." The lutch stretches, turning slightly. Somehow, the back of her armor has slipped down, just as her hair happens to be pulled off to the side, showing the runes marked upon her back. Slave marks, for those who know of such things.

Delilah oomphs softly at the punch, as she shifts sideways several inches, at least from the waist up. "...Ow," she comments, though by her tone the ouch is more invented than literal. "Yeah, that's definitely a story," she agrees, looking up once again. "Donna tells it way better than I do. I just interupt her now and then with irrelevant details."

When her name is mentioned, Donna peers at Delilah for a moment, then at the marks on the Lucht's back, and purses her lips. "...Fine," she huffs, closing her eyes for a moment. "...Dunno if you're ever been to Rune, 'cept to beat on those Dranei bastards?"

Selia shrugs. "Brief visits. Nay my sorta place." But she listens attentively, curious.

"Rune has by far the best jam cakes." Just as promised, Delilah is ready with the irrelevant details. "You really should try them, sometime, but make sure you get them from the lower quarters. They actually make them like they *care* what they caste like. ...Anyway," she mumbles, "I'll be quieter for a moment."

Donna's mouth turns upward at one corner, looking suspiciously like a brief smile as she gently knocks her knuckles against her twin's shoulder again. "...So anyway. Mother's one of those social climber people, the kind who want more control over cities than they've got. ...Except in Rune, you don't have any political power, 'less you've got magical power too, and Mother.... she's okay at best, as a wizard. So that wasn't going to happen." One foot reaches out, and nudges Delilah's back. "...So I guess she figured, 'maybe it'll be enough if I give birth to the bestest wizard Rune ever had, ever.'"

This, followed by a truly disgusted noise from the back of her throat. "...So I guess she made some kind of pact with something or other from one of the other planes? Wasn't a demon, *believe me* we'd know if it was."

Selia nods. "Other planes ain't so bad, most o' 'em. Demons... yeah, dey be right jerks."

"Well, she made a deal alright," Delilah chimes in, after straightening herself up for a second time. "BUt she got more than she bargained for. A *lot* more. ...Or a lot less, depending on who you are or how you look at it, I suppose." She shrugs, and leans over to punch her sister in the shoulder in kind; which looks like it takes her a lot more effort, and is ultimately a lot less successful. "So Mother gives birth, and out pops me, screaming and outraged at being forced into the world. All well and good, there's the magical star pupil who'll lead Rune to the promised land. Of course, then Donna shows up five minutes later, which wasn't part of the plan. Also not part of the plan, I'm not a wizard, nor will I ever be. I'm a sorceress, which in Rune basically means I'm a grade A slacker."

"So there y'go," Donna says, waving at Delilah as she takes up the thread. "Golden child who's a slacker, and the leftovers they didn't even ask for. Long story short, soon as we could get up the courage to run, we ran. ...Too bad it turned out we were both sheltered little songbirds out in the wilderness."

Selia nods, and shrugs. "Everybody gotta learn sometime, no worries there. Born wit them runes, then? Or they come later?"

Delilah ehs, "Well, some of use more sheltered than others," Delilah admits, blushing softly. "See, Mother was pretty damn keen for her little golden songbird to *sing*. She didn't precisely treat Donna like... like a daughter, y'know? I'm not sure which one of us hated her for it more." She smirks, "We sure learned fast in the woods, though. As evidenced by the fact that we are, in fact, not dead." She pauses, glancing sideways at Donna. "I don't remember the marks ever /not/ being there," she adds.

Donna shrugs faintly. "Born with'm, I guess... But they don't really seem to do much, unless I'm *really* looking for a fight, so, don't know. S'pose we'll figure it out sooner or later."

Selia nods, considering a few moments, and shrugs. "Reckon ya figure it out soon 'nuff. Magic ain't my thing. Worked out a few tricks, but nay the proper sorta spell."

Delilah chuckles softly, "I don't know if it matters why they're there," she observes. "They just are. What matters more is that we're not under our Mother's influence anymore, we're free... well, aside from right this minute anyway..." she ahems softly, "And we're together. As corny as that might sound."

"Yup," Donna says, nodding once. Apparently, that's all she has to say on that topic.

Selia nods and sighs. "Good ta 'ave friends. Better ta 'ave family, though reckon iffen da first last long 'nuff, pretty become become da second."

"But a lot easier to make new friends than new family," Delilah quips. "THe latter requires a lot of... effort. Of various sorts." She rests her hands on her knees, and hunches forwards. "They are going to feed us in here, right? I'm starving. The truffles were great but they weren't exactly filling."

"Eventually," Donna says, lacing her hands back behind her head. "'F I were you, I'd find something to do until they get around to it, D. .....And I almost am."

Selia mmmms and grins. "Bit late fer dinner, too early fer breakfast. Water can get easy 'nuff. And iffen ya like, got some tack wit me. Ain't fancy, but fills ya belly well nuff."

"Right at this moment," Delilah admits, "I'd settle for just about anything that can be considered food, or a reasonable version there of, by the standards of the human stomach." She licks her lips to moisten them, and tilts her head. "So... If you don't mind me asking Selia, what is it that brings you in here? You're clearly not a prisoner, and we're quite grateful for your help."

Donna shakes her head, making a small noise of amusement, and shifts on her board. Apparently, the dark twin seems to be preparing to nap, or something close to it.

Selia grins, and offers some trails rations from her pockets. Sort of a mix of granola and jerky, not too different from an energy bar. Filling, but not the best tasting. "Me? Aye, was visitin a friend o a friend." She nods towards the now napping half-orc's cell. "Bit o a fight, overnight lock up ta cool off. But got kids ta worry 'bout, an a job in da morning. All set now, kids are fine, job can wait." She glances to the others cells, the drunks and assorted ner-do-wells who know the jail well. "Family be a bit strong, but we're a community, watch out fer our own. Ain't nuthin ta offer a 'and when ya standin, but can me everythin when er down on yer back."

Delilah nods her head solemnly, "Well, that's something we can well appreciate," she agrees, accepting the trail rations with a thank you, and popping a bite in her mouth. "It's always good to know that someone else his looking out for you. Donna and I have that all the time with each other, which is more valuable to me than gold." She pauses, and blushes softly. "I suppose this might not mean over much right in this moment, but for later when we're... not in here? If you ever need help, I'm sure we'll be around."

Donna cracks an eye open, looking at the side of Delilah's head for a long moment. Then, she looks to Selia, lifts one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug, and nods her agreement with the declaration.

Selia chuckles and nods. "Can find me in da Market easy 'nuff, or 'round da Guild iffen ya 'ead there. Guild be a bit o a community itself, look after our own. Anyway, is late, reckon I best be off. Be seein ya." Hopping down off the bars, the little lutch strolls towards the guard room, manacles over her shoulder clinking softly. Might be the most warning the poor guards ever get from her.