1016/Bookmage

Bookmage
Date of Scene:	23 November 2014
Location:	Strait of the Americas
Synopsis:	Oberyn's first test out on the mean streets of Detroit!
Cast of Characters:	516, 634

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Ferham (516) has posed:
     So, Oberyn Levy has been given a little assignment/lunch hour down here in one of the many copies of North America the Multiverse is host to. Sure, he could savor the sights, the flora, the fauna (such as it was) and maybe even bring back some new info for the academy! It was like a fieldtrip, sorta? Of course, the one thing his instructors may not have told him was the actual city and the denizens there of.

     Chicago Detroit, to be exact, one that had some severe issues with monsters, of course one would say the gangbangers were way worse. And no sooner than Levy had arrived that several figures creep out from the alleys, one even sliding open a manhole lid to burble up at him.

     "Hey, ese, you got any spare change, amigo?" it's a Malboro, gang colors are tied around a few of it's waving tendril arms, and it appears to be wearing several bits of gold jewelry, including gold-plated brass knuckles. Guess they didn't tell him about this when they set him on the trip!

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    Go out, explore this newly opened Multiverse. Bring back findings, to help compile a useful adventuring guide. Seems like a simple enough quest, right? And with the gil on offer for taking a few notes, well, how could anyone turn it down?

    Oberyn Levy is, it seems, not the best at making life choices.

    The small teen is just... wandering. Taking notes. Recording /everything/ in a notebook as he walks, just as if there's nothing wrong with that at all. City environment, not well maintained. High whining noises. Popping sounds - similar to gunfire? Doesn't sound like a normal Fire primer though - broken glass. Why does all this sound so... very... oh no.

    This is about when the Ghetto Malboro (Red) makes its approach. Oberyn doesn't put his journal away right away - he needs to /record/ this after all! Talking monster, very interesting, wonder if it has the same abilities as -- WAIT A MINUTE.

    Fight? Cast? Flee? ... bluff. "N-no. No, I'm not... I'm not carrying any money. Just my... my spellbook, here. I w-wanted to work on Firaga a bit today." You hear that, mister big tough malboro? Fira/ga/. Yeah, this is a big tough scary mage right here, you don't want to mess with /that/! Right? ... please?

Ferham (516) has posed:
     "Woah holmes, looks like we got a tough guy over here," Malboros as Levy might know, don't usually just bite or expel clouds of noxious spores or gas at people, they actually use their tendrils as weapons. And right now the gang member Malboro has a number of his tendrils /threaded through/ the fingers of those gold-plated brass knuckles even going so far as to test their weight while slapping his frontal fronds together. There is more rustling from the alley as several similarly attired monsters come out of the woodwork, a goblin wearing a doorag of all things, followed by a bonesnatch (Whyyyy do they call them that) in what appears to be a basketball singlet. They don't appear amused with the boy's stammering threat.

     If the boy is not fast on his feet, he might find that set of brass knuckles soon tapping against his jaw, with the malboro attempting to lift him up by his ankles and actually /shake/ any spare money or things that might be in his pockets out of them!

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    Oh, hey! More native monsters! All adorned with matching colored raiments... some seem proficient in weapon use, that's different. Seem to cooperate with others of same color group instead of following species ties, working together to trap and down their... chosen... prey.

    Well, that's it. Big bluff didn't work, and this is /not/ the kind of encounter Oberyn is built for. Maybe he could fight his way out, but he'd be pretty battered, and getting beat up /hurts/ like, a lot. This isn't the time to be a hero... it's the time to practice the better part of valor.

    "W-well I'll tell you... I'll tell you w-what. Y-you don't sound so i-interested in s-seeing Firaga in action..." The book is finally tucked away in a pocket. As he speaks, Oberyn holds his free hand up in a warding gesture as he puts away the journal; once both hands are free, however, he makes a few odd movements. Arcane gestures or mentally reviewing text, it doesn't make much difference. The result is the same. "... s-so maybe I s-should... I should d-demonstrate something else? L-like maybe... BLIZZARD!"

    As the word is spoken - nearly shouted - the spell is formed. It wouldn't down any of these monsters unless they are far weaker than they look. The young mage knows this. Which is why he's not even going to /try/. Instead... let's see how these monsters run on ice!

    Not that Oberyn's going to see. He's going to take off at a dead run in the opposite direction as soon as he's done casting. And as he does, three golden coins drop from his pocket, dislodged when the journal was being put away. Thirty gil - he sure wasn't carrying /much/ money...

Ferham (516) has posed:
     It would appear the bookmage is not the easy prey the monsters were expecting. Well, not the /easiest/ prey, exactly, but still prey. The ghetto malboro is taken unawares in mid swing and makes a noise between a cough and a choke as it's buffeted by the frosty north wind the spell creates, frosting over it's many eyestalks as it flails about wildly trying to clear them, apparently missing the boy's jaw by an inch. Only the goblin is apparently bothered by the ice, the undead cohort is not affected nearly as badly, but they're all quite surprised the boy was you know, actually useful at magic. Of course, Levy did drop them some money for their trouble, funny how adventurers always seemed to drop money in their haste retreating from monsters, you'd think they'd buy some pants with buttons on their pockets, or something.

     Levy's haste however might take him down an even darker alley still, as he's out of the frying pan and into the... Ferham? What is she even doing in a place like this, the back alley of some theater, a stained mattress propped up against a dumpster on one side to the far end, not exactly the most glamorous of places.

     "Woah there, were you having some trouble out there? hmm... not terminated, yet," she seemed to be assessing the boy for any harm, though of course that involves stalking up to him on those high heeled boots of hers, each click clacking in rhythm, a hand on her hip as she sort of bends to peer down at him. Yes, she's tall, decently over six feet, and yowza, those legs and hips.

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    Run awaaaay! Oberyn's icy diversion isn't going to give him much of a head start if those monsters decide to chase him, but it should be enough. If there's one thing he knows, it's running away!

    If there's one thing he doesn't know, it's staying out of trouble in cities. Sure, duck down the shady alleyway, it's safe! It's dark, hard to see what's in there, perfect hiding place, right? Nothing could possibly go wrong!

    Nothing like, say, nearly plowing into a giant metal woman while looking over a shoulder. "Gaahh! N-not another one! A-are y-you the l-leader? I... I d-didn't know this was your... J-just let me go, I w-won't cause any trouble!" Silly Oberyn, that's not the right shade of red at all - it's probably all a coincidence.

    Also not the right shade of red: His face when he stops seeing 'large red armored figure' and starts noticing the voice, and the /shape/ of the figure, aaand what exactly his eyes are just about level with. Might want to start looking up a bit?

Ferham (516) has posed:
     "Calm down, human larvae, I'm not one of the monsters out there," she raised a gloved hand and waved a little at him, as if to show she meant no harm. Apparently she /was/ aware of the monster population around here, likely having a run in with a few already. One could just imagine how well /that/ went. When Levy plowed right into her though, he might notice that not /all/ of her was metal. Some parts of her armor were of course, but there would definitely be some cushion there to break his inertia.

     There is an almost audible brow raise as she waggled a finger at him and cleared her throat, a light smirk on her ruby red lips. "I'm up /here/," she pointed to her face as she took a step closer. Yes, Fer was around 6'5 in those heeled boots of hers, normally she had just been around six without them. "So why were you running? something frighten you out there?" that smirk persisted a little bit, like a cat that has just caught an understandably amusing and cute mouse.

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    "N-not a m-monster... that... that makes sense. You... look human? A-are you sure you're not... a beastmaster, or anything...?" No, no, settle down young Levy, you were told that you're safe, of course you're safe for now. Right? I mean... if this were some sort of beastmaster monster taming gang leader they'd have a whip or something, right? ... er.

    At least Oberyn has calmed down a little, though. Now that the crisis seems to be over, he gives his pockets a quick pat - damn, no fries on the way home, stupid monster muggers - and...

    Blushes even deeper than before and, after brief hesitation, takes a step back and tilts his head up to make actual eye contact.

    "I... there was... there were these monsters, and..." Suddenly, Oberyn notices the mattress and, coming to the obvious conclusion, smirks briefly himself before remembering the gil situation. Oh well. Probably a bad idea anyway. Instead, he continues, "... some sort of... monster gang? They wanted my money. I wanted my money. It... wasn't gonna end well."

    "... wait. So... if you're not with them... what are you doing all dressed up in their color, out /here/? I've only been here an hour and I can already tell this isn't a nice place to be."

Ferham (516) has posed:
     "Beastmaster? interesting term, but sure, we can go with that," Fer shrugged a little. "I'm a Reploid, humanoid robot," she might have shaken her head a little at his ignorance, but she perhaps realized he wasn't the average sort of human worm-baby. He had cast magic, or so she thought out there. Now that he was giving her actual eye contact she seemed more pleased with his behavior, She does keep that brow raised as he smirked back at her for some reason though. Oh to be a fly on the wall in that head of his~

     "My my, you're such a headstrong adventurer, aren't you? if you're worried about my armor though, it's just always been that way, as for why I'm here, though that's for me to know," she waggled a finger at him, those high heeled boots of hers clicking as she turned around, and uh oh--one of her greatest weapons was now leveled on him. The kind of thing Sir-mix-alot would definitely approve of, Anaconda included. "If you're still afraid though I could lead you out of here, if you wanted..." her normally deep feminine tone had become a bit... softer, perhaps trying to make him sound safer or more at ease? As she peered at him over her shoulder however, that smile of hers had returned. Clearly it was /fun/ toying with this human fledgeling.

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    "... a... what?" It's entirely possible that there are robots somewhere in Oberyn's homeworld. Maybe in an ancient ruin, or an evil futuristic research laboratory. But he's certainly never seen nor met one before... or ever even heard the term. "Sorry, what... what's a robot? ... is that some kind of new... ... no, no it probably wouldn't..."

    "Adventuring rules, right? Talk to everyone, try to figure out if someone needs help... um. Yeah... that's all. If you're okay here that's..." The boy's eyes flick to the mattress for a brief instant before locking back into very careful yes ma`am not staring at all eye contact. "... fine."

    Oberyn is faced with a difficult choice as Ferham turns and offers to lead him out of the alley. On the one hand: Stranger danger! This could all be a terribly convoluted trap! On the other... exploring more of the city. It will be difficult getting home if it's not an easy path back. Heading back now means strolling through the monster gang again. There's really so much to study just around here. ... I'm sorry were we talking about something I'm afraid there is something much too distracting going on here.

    Oberyn's voice cracks just a bit as he blurts out, "Uhh... okay. Lead on!"

Ferham (516) has posed:
     "Talk to everyone? Around here that will result in trouble--like you likely just saw, not everyone is going to be so helpful to you," Ferham however has no idea Oberyn is running on what is essentially JRPG standard protocol, though she seems to try to give him more world weary advice nonetheless. Ferham also had a very powerful method in which to communicate the need to follow her as well, and it was swaying as she walked rather hypnotically, apparently turning Levy into a kind of mindless fool. Worked everytime.

     Where she did lead him was at least out of the street, and seemed to be a backroom of some kind of botique. There was clothes strewn about and what looked like a hairdressing chair, complete with one of those bowl sort of headpieces up top. Once she'd pied piper'd Levy into the room of course, she turned and smiled down at him, suddenly one of the business ends of those high heeled boots meeting his chest as she raised her knee up high. "Have a seat, kid!" she playfully would try to knock him back into the chair, a bit roughly, course, but still.

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    "No, most people aren't... very helpful at... all. Sometimes they... throw shoes... at me." Oberyn talks like he's in a trance. One could say he kind of is. There are some tricks that just work very well on certain people, and a little swaying works quite well indeed on a high school mage.

    Also fairly effective: Pushing one into a chair. Oh no. Oh, this is taking a bad turn. Oh boy, what is this thing. Bad, bad, this is like adventuring rule number one right here, don't get taken to places with creepy helmet chairs!

    Were he trendier, maybe Oberyn would be a little less worried about his life and free will, and a little more about his /style/ given the surroundings, but as it is... "... w-what... ... what's going on, i-is... is this where... ... I... I don't wanna be a brainwashed minion again!" ... you see, this one time at summer camp...

Ferham (516) has posed:
     The plastic dome of the chair likely even is knocked down over his head, briefly obscuring his vision for a few moments, thanks to the force in which he landed in it. He however didn't realize he was sitting in a salon chair, an unpowered one at that. "There we are, bit comfier I suspect," Ferham's whip is back in her hands, and she's pulling it taut out in front of her a bit, domme style. Uh oh. Stepping up to Oberyn's chair, she puts one of those heels down against the seat of the chair, if he was wise he'd move his knees.

     "So, what's your name? what outfit are you with?" she asked, her voice a fair bit sultry still, closer to her usual speaking voice though. She had a decent range, it would appear. At his sudden exclamation about brainwashing well, she just sort of looked at him funny. "You're in a /salon chair/ idiot, the only thing that thing would give you is curls," she lifted the plastic dome up, studying him. "Which you sort of already have," she flicked his Marche-like cow-lick thing there gently with her gloved fingers.

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    Oh no, ohhh no, this is bad, this is awful, caught in the bad guy's lair in the brainwashing chair being interrogated before being forced to do their bidding and--

    Salon chair.

    Seriously.

    "... th... that's your big... /thing/? 'Keep off my turf or I'll give you a vicious /makeover/?' ... man, this place is /weird/." Oberyn suddenly sounds a lot less intimidated. Maybe it's the shock of everything. Maybe it's relief from knowing he's not - probably not - going to be made into someone's mindslave today. Maybe it's because this is where cool heroes always turn things around somehow so he's gotta just man up and get out of this somehow.

    "I'll make this easy, though. I'm not a Judge, don't worry. Whatever you're up to with that whip, I don't think I like it. Even if I /did/, I don't have any gil left, so... uh. I think I can find my own way back from here?" Yeah, like he was paying any attention at all to the streets and city while being led here. Probably end up lost for days.

    "(... wait, curls? ... /MALBORO/.)"

Ferham (516) has posed:
     "Pfft, no this is just a convenient spot to ask you, is all," chances are the botique might have been why Fer was even down here, though if it was for mundane reasons or not was anyone's guess. Course, she didn't need a chair to enslave this one's mind, exactly. Had a bit of malboro gunk gotten on Oberyn's hair so far...? perhaps.

     "Wait, gil?" she knew what it was, from dealing with Faruja, of course. But why was he trying to offer her mo--oohhh. "Gah! is that what you thought I was?!" there is a twitch of her left eyelid, almost imperceptible, but it's there. Did Oberyn notice it? Either way, she looks a little shocked, apalled--hey, she had pride in her design, damnit! Now she'd gone from looking playful and trying to ferret info out of him to not quite amused at all, hands on her hips and everything.

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    "Well... yeah? Bad part of town, doesn't bat an eye at /monster gangs/ on the prowl, alley with a nasty mattress? Looking like /that/? ... I mean... there's that one girl in Dark Knight, has armor like that but in, you know, 'my soul is made of suffering' black. Black Chocobo, they call her." Has Oberyn loosened up a bit? Is he less worried? Or is he just babbling now? It's... well, it's kind of hard to tell, to be honest. The way he's slooowly shifting up toward the edge of the chair might be a bit of a hint.

    It may also help that eye contact has, apparently, been taken back off the table for the time being. He just can't help it, okay? Of course, maybe it would have been a good idea to keep that up since the eye-twitch of doom would have been a /very/ useful detail to catch.

Ferham (516) has posed:
     "Dark knight?" she muttered as she inclined her head toward him, that sounded sort of familiar, though Fer had no idea if he meant the Batman sort or not--and then the Black Chocobo line throws her off. "Some kind of woman in a black chocobo outfit? Pfft no wonder you thought I was a prostitute, you got this stuff on the brain, kid," she shook her head. "I'm Ferham, am I gonna get a name out of you then?" she eased up on him and put her heeled foot down from the edge of his chair, retracting her whip for the moment.

     Besides, she saw a much better idea out of the corner of her eye. She picked up what seemed to be a tape dispenser, the kind with a handle on it. Not scotch, no, wider and more plasticky, the type you packaged cardboard boxes up with at the supermarket. She smiled again as she spun the roll of the tape idly, apparently getting an idea as she gazed down at him.

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    "... black chocobo costume...? ... ... well, I bet if someone asked her to..." Distracted! Distracted by the... uh, let's just call it 'weird'. Whether he's picturing it, or trying not to, this seems to be an image in Oberyn's head now, and it's keeping him occupied enough that he doesn't seem to notice the request for a name.

    At first, anyway. Maybe he's more clever than he looks? Maybe he's just good at multi-tasking? But however he manages it, Oberyn seizes on his brief window of opportunity when Ferham looks away. The glance full of sinister intent is most likely to fall on an empty seat, as the young mage flings himself from the seat at as near a sprint as he can manage from a sitting start as soon as he's out of sight for a moment.

    Mistake number one: He doesn't /keep running/. He stops for a moment to answer the question, a bit late. "... I'm Oberyn Levy. Golem-class Black Mage /and/ White Mage, Alexander Academy."

    Mistake number two: He faces this like the cool hero he'd like to be, rather than the cautious adventurer he /should/ be or the scared dumb kid he /is/. Rather than leaving it at that, he stops to cast a spell - anyone looking at him in the moments after speaking is likely to notice an aura of... flaming green bubbles? "... and I think it's time to do my homework."

    What? Not everyone can be /good/ at badass one-liners.

Ferham (516) has posed:
     "Hey--" Ferham is actually surprised when sparky there finally takes iniatiative and is making a break for it. She is however surprised that he suddenly stops and turns toward her. She frowns a little and then looks down at the tape dispenser, and then at him, as if having to try and /decide/ whether or not she wanted to actually go through with it. But he had basically called her a robo-hooker.... those high heeled boots of hers quickly step toward him, that tape dispenser soon making revolutions around poor Oberyn before he might know what was happening.

     Armed with the information he'd given her, there would eventually be a struggling plastic-mummified Oberyn turning up on the doorstep of said Alexander Academy, with a sheet of white paper with a big red circled F on it, with a note reading "SEE ME AFTER CLASS."

Oberyn Levy (634) has posed:
    Some time later...

    "Thank you for your submission, but... I'm not sure 'mean and probably not a call girl' is... quite enough for a bestiary entry. Maybe you should just... hold on to that? Thank you for adventuring with Dolet Corps, have a great day."