986/To Catch a Fairy

To Catch a Fairy
Date of Scene:	17 November 2014
Location:	New York-1
Synopsis:	Ineryon seems interested in Kirito's abilities, and hires his Ivalician contact Gaffgarion to find out what he can.
Cast of Characters:	493, 615

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Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    A guy walking around in a full suit of plate armor is likely to look weird walking around in New York, even in the Multiverse. So instead, Gaffgarion's wearing a much less conspicuous outfit. In this case a fine modern suit. The slacks and blazer are a grayish brown color, the shirt is white, and his tie is a silvery gray. It's not one of those tacky 'power ties', either.

    Beside him, Ladd is looking quite nice himself. Much like his master, if he had worn his chainmail coif and tunic, it would have looked a little weird. So he's wearing a light blue shirt with a gray vest and matching slacks. He's got a coat over it, though, since it's chilly. Both of them are wearing black dress shoes.

    The pair of them are sitting inside a coffee shop, due to aforementioned chilliness. Gaffgarion has a cup of coffee in front of him, as does Ladd. However, Ladd also has a rather archaic-looking ledger book open in front of him, and is making notes in it with a feather quill.

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     In New York, at some times of year, a guy perusing the streets of New York was odd, but that would probably be if the individual were in Buffalo, or Long Island.... yet, in New York City, things were even weirder than in Los Angeles, so if it wasn't blazing-hot, there might be somebody dressed as Darth Vader; heck, there was even a news article about a guy who deliberately tried to toughen himself up by jogging in Death Valley in a Darth Vader outfit! On the other hand, it would still look 'out of the ordinary', since at least seventy percent of folks wanted to blend in, while the minority screamed for attention.

     Gafgarion, not being an insecure, attention-starved, walking ego who needed validation from the whole world, was intelligently garbed in something more appropriate for a person who didn't go out of his way to get people to notice him.... if not the opposite! Ineryon had a bit of a problem, on the other hand. He had blue skin, plus he was seven feet high. Not only did he resemble an overgrown Paul Karason, alas, atop of all that, he had a tail, a horn, pointed ears-- and Ineryon Valos was still experiencing problems creating illusions, so he didn't even bother trying to go incognito. Towering at almost eight feet, he looked like an indigo relative of Robert Wadlow, and most people assumed he was in costume. Occasionally mobbed by people thinking he was some kind of cosplayer, due to there being an Anime Convention at that time, by sheer coincidence, he had his photograph taken several times, causing him the odd dizzy spell now and again; it didn't help people with photophobia to be attacked by flashes.

     Eventually, he managed to stumble towards the location where Gafgarion sat, appearing as though he was about to topple over completely if he hadn't sat down just that second. One may or may not believe this, but not only do fangirls like tall guys, but they like elven-looking men, because most effeminate male elves are actually cosplayed by females. Not yet up to par, Ineryon faceplants on the table where Gaff and Ladd are seated, unable to greet them properly. When his forehead hits the table, the whole thing shakes dramatically-- people who are in the eight-foot height range, even the skinny ones, weigh in at approximately four to five hundred pounds. Give him a moment, and he'll be sure to snap out of it.

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    Ladd is the first to notice, and gives a squeak of surprise, lifting his coffee in one hand and the inkpot in the other as Ineryon's face impacted with the table. Gaffgarion however, didn't notice the Dark Elf's arrival until the face impacted with the table. He leaned back, pulling the arm on that side towards the other side before realizing who it was.

    Though he also notes that his coffee spilled with the face-to-table impact. Thankfully there are napkins! As he realizes who has sat down at the table, he relaxes, and then picks up a few napkins. "Take care, good sir. This suit was expensive." He may or may not be kidding, but there's no malice in his voice. As he mops up the spill in front of him, he notes, "You look as though you've been very nearly missed by a Behemoth's charge. What ails you?"

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Feeling a sliver like he's definitely imposed on Gafgarion, Ineryon groans, "My apologies... if your suit has been permanently marred, I will see to its amendment. In the meantime, I fear I must focus for a few seconds on my own maladies, and if you don't mind posing the therapist, I've a few gripes to offer in exchange for some shiny tidbits." Strangely, the entire time, his face stays pressed against the table, as though too weak to really remove himself due to either mental or physical fatigue.

     Gafgarion is fast enough on the draw that he takes the initiative, and bothers to inquire about the dark elf's status-- probably just protecting his investment, seeing that Ineryon had an ongoing contract with Gaf, so the drow was worth more alive than dead. "....Well... the first obstacle barring my passage happens to be a very physical barrier which I had not foreseen when I first arrived in this place. What I mean to say is.... I am stuck in a place in my life where I cannot break free, and I need assistance. It seems you are certain to profit from me today, Entity Gafgarion!" Still being vague, the dark knight in a nice suit might be wondering what Ineryon is referring to, perchance?

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    "Seems all right," Gaffgarion replies, referring to his suit. "No harm done. I expect you wouldn't have collapsed so if you were well." And sure enough, the Dark Knight seems to have hit the nail on the head, if Ineryon's words are any indication. "Ah-ha. I see." Gaffgarion tilts his head at the mention of a therapist. "Perhaps I can. Though I must admit to having little experience." Not only in the 'therapy' thing, but in the 'giving a crap'. That tends to be a hard thing for him to manage.

    Then again, it's true, Ineryon's paying him. He didn't think the mission of 'keep an eye out for other people with the name Valos' would be all that would be required of him. Things were rarely as easy as they sounded. The mention of being stuck gets a curious look. "Stuck? How do you mean?"

    Ladd actually gives a bit of a surprised look as he puts the inkwell and his coffee back down. Perhaps he's surprised his master's being so altruistic. At least, that's what it seems. Then again, money was mentioned, so...

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Ineryon wasn't speculating for one microsecond that Gafgarion was offering his services out of the kindness of his heart, for, while most beings had enough mobility in their soul to play the part of the wet clay, which could be influenced by the hands of fate, the despicable stoicism of the dark knight had turned his atrial organ into a hardened piece of rock, which could no more be changed than it could be softened-- it would either go its course the remainder of its days or be annihilated entirely! The heart of the dark elf was probably in almost the same condition, although mayhap not quite to that degree, but it was a drying ceramic, and certainly not moist in the least!

     Finally, Ineryon grunts, "Ah... well... the first problem I have... is... mildly embarrassing, since it accentuates my lack of foresight in decidedly utilizing this furnishing as a sanctuary for my skull." His face still hasn't moved from that spot. Raising his arm, and pointing downward, he remarks, "Would your assistant be willing to take a gander under this table for an instant or two? You see... this table... it happens to be constructed of some synthetic plastic, it appears...." If Ladd /does/ happen to give into curiosity, and Gaff gives the order, Ladd will see that the dark elf's hyper-fortified ivory horn has... pierced through the topside of the table, completely through to the bottom and more....

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    That, at least, was most definitely true-- Gaffgarion's heart, figuratively speaking anyway, was like a stone. While true, that made him incapable of true altruism, it also meant that he wasn't likely to feign care. He might not even be able to!

    Though when Ineryon mentions the exact nature of his issue? Gaffgarion blinks, and when Ladd's mentioned, he nods. Ladd stands, and then crouches down to see where Ineryon is stuck. "Ooh, I see," Ladd remarks. Looking up over the table again, Ladd notes, "He is indeed stuck, Ser."

    Gaffgarion has the decency not to burst into peals of laughter. He does, however, rest an elbow on the table, and chuckle quietly behind a hand for a moment. It's really not funny. But, to put it in modern terms, Gaffgarion is kind of a douche like that. Once he gets the laughter under control, he replies, "Yes. Most of these tables are made of something they call 'plastic' and 'plywood'. Neither of which are as sturdy as wood. Unfortunately." He stands. "Right then." He steps behind Ineryon and takes hold of his shoulders. "Do you think a quick tug would free you?"

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Ineryon would normally give a nodding gesture to demonstrate approval of Gafgarion's methods, yet, this was impossible in the present, being that his horn stayed his movement at such firmness that he almost felt as though he was beginning to get a cramp in his neck. "Ugh..." It wasn't amusing to the dark elf to be the center of someone's entertainment, but sometimes everybody played the fool.... according to Aaron Neville, anyway. Managing to quell what objections his ego might have had to being treated as a plaything, the iron-willed drow was able to forestall whatever sensations of pride being damaged taking control of his mind.

     He relented just a few seconds later to the stone-hearted human, "...I think, Entity Ladd would be best suited to push from beneath, and if you could tow me from the backside, that would be ideal. My protrusive prong has thoroughly pierced this thing.... and it is actually designed almost like an arrow, in that when it is yanked free, there are minuscule barbs on the outer surface fashioned to /rip/ predatory opponents of my race." It also served as a weapon when males clashed over females, but he wasn't about to admit that even he had hormones that could potentially make him act unprofessional at differing junctures! "...As soon as I'm liberated, I'll be sure to swallow a potion, and then... we can converse about yet another job I have for you, Entity Gafgarion. Entity Ladd might be able to help you, as well!"

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    Oh yeah, Gaffgarion most definitely finds this hilarious. However, he does have the grace not to laugh aloud, even if there's amusement in his voice. "Do be careful when walking in these sorts of cities. There are a great many items in these cities that are made from similar artificial materials. You may end up making another rather forced performance of this sort if you are not careful."

    He also has another question. "If you have barbs on that horn, would it not be dangerous for Ladd to push from underneath?" He pauses, and then looks to Ladd. "Put the coffees and the ledger on another table for a moment." Ladd does so, quickly. And to Ineryon, "So what about this-- Ladd will hold the table steady so it does not follow you, and I will pull."

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Not to contradict Gafgarion, but to offer concern for the man's resources(aka, Ladd), Ineryon tries to respectfully suggest an option, although after he speaks, Gafgarion mentions that holding the table would function, as well, "Hmmm... I was thinking Entity Ladd could wrap one of the cloth napkins I saw around the area where he elects to take his grip.... but I think, now that you mention it, locking down the table would be a better idea, since the napkin might become shredded."

     This Valos was not quite as wise as some of the others, even if he was in the range of 'average' intelligence for a Valosian dark elf. It might've made one wonder if the geniuses of the Valii culture were all beings who customarily had IQs rating up with household names heard in New York city, such as Hawkings and Einstein-- then again, maybe they were so smart they were actually just off their rocker; hard to tell with the drows of Lodestone Island! A compromise is reached, and inevitably, Ineryon is pulled from his confines. This causes enough commotion that one of the servers comes over and furrows his brows in a disgruntled manner, remarking, "I'm sorry to say this, but management is going to insist that you pay for the damage you've done!" Reclaiming some of his wit, he thinks up a counter-accusation, and swiftly so, narrowing his eyes and scowling, "You sir, have jumped to a conclusion in this instance, I believe! It just so happens that I slipped. Would your manager care to see how taxing on time and finances a lawsuit is, if you plan to pay for a non-government-funded lawyer? It is /my/ suspicion that if you simply have management replace our table,.... this tiny incident could be /overlooked/....."

     What's this? Ineryon didn't slip, did he? On the other hand.... only the dark elf himself knows that he didn't slip-- yet... A Valosian drow could not lie knowingly and willfully, so how did he manage to formulate this response? Inwardly, Ineryon convinces himself he did slip.... it wasn't a physical matter of slipping, alas, but more of a mental matter, for he'd slipped away from his normally obsessive protocols that dominated his stickler-like behavior almost every moment of the day!

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    Oh there it goes! Once Ineryon's free again Gaffgarion takes his seat. The hole in the table gets a shake of his head. "I will take care not to remain in front of you should you need to do that again," he notes. His tone is half amused and half wry. Though then, of course, the waiter comes out and starts to jaw about being charged.

    Gaffgarion shakes his head at the waiter. "Truly? I have seen these tables in shops. I would wager a single one costs less than you make in a week." A critical look at the man. "And from the looks of you, your wages are not that high." That /could/ be an insult, but it's hard to tell. "And if the table had been made with better workmanship-- and better materials-- rather than these artificial things assembled by some lackwit, it might have stood up to the strike."

    Ladd even speaks up, venturing, "A-and are you saying that he should not be welcome here, merely because his physiology is different? Is that not discrimination? He cannot help that his people have horns."

    Slapping his knee, Gaffgarion points in Ladd's direction. "YES! That is also correct. And do the people of this city not take discrimination based upon race quite seriously?" He had, after all, heard 'you're a racist' being thrown around this morning pretty heavily.

    From a hole in a table to accusations of racism. That escalated quickly.

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Ineryon is going to have to give Gafgarion and Ladd /BOTH/ a bonus after this venture, for the racism thing hadn't entered his mind, though it was seen to be a problem frequently enough in the modern day of New York. Not everyone was 'that way', despite this, any business-owner or politician accused of it would have all their allies running from them like they had Ebola, if the accusation stuck, whether or not it was actually blown out of proportion on some level. One thing remained true amidst all the arguing; the table was not that pricey, for Gafgarion was positioned in a restaurant better than a deli, but not so prestigious that it bothered to refrain to ruining the ambience with a television set, which was playing some episode of Jerry Springer, full of the usual dullard slapstick that could be scripted by the most ignorant child in grade-school.

     To say the least, now that Ineryon wasn't preoccupied with his face stuck to the table, he was already beginning to notice the schtick they had on TV, and wagered that Gafgarion's mildly less-refined, less-intellectual subordinate Ladd had presumably begged the dark knight to let him go to this place so that he could watch some contemporary television programming. Ladd wasn't a buffoon, but he wasn't a genius, even if just seconds ago, the fellow conjured up an excellent reason why the waiter should retract his statements... which he does. The three individuals accosting the server is enough to not only send him back to the kitchen to get food for the other patrons, but inside of that kitchen, he'll be sure to ask a co-worker the favor of taking over his table.

     The dark elf clears his throat, "Ah... You have my gratitude, Entities Gafgarion and Ladd. To business, I think. There is... for starters, a fellow named Kirito who has amassed some caliber of fame in his time in this Multiverse. I hear his skills have been polished superbly.... I should be interested to hear of his technique, his style." He shrugs, "...Of course, one might need to engage him in combat to exhume his methods...."

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    "Pffft," Gaffgarion hisses as the waiter retreats. "The people in these sorts of cities are so... spiritless. They lack backbone," he observes. He leans over and swats Ladd on the back solidly, causing a stumble. "Good one, Ladd." Thankfully it was /after/ that when Ladd got their drinks (and the ledger book) back on the table.

    When Ineryon begins to speak of his business, Gaffgarion looks to Ladd and tilts his head back, as if to say 'now'. The squire nods, closing the ledger and pulling a smaller pad of paper from the inside of his vest. Then he waits. "Kirito, hm?" Has he heard the name? Perhaps, perhaps not. A nod to Ladd, who scribbles down the name. Probably misspelled-- 'Keereetu' or something. Close enough. "What about this fellow interests you, if I may ask? Looking to steal his power? Recruit him?"

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Shrugging, Ineryon grimaces, while imagining a different outcome, "...Personally, I am not in opposition to the notion that these creatures are so doubtful of their capacity to resist dominion from superior forces.... it makes paving the way easier for those who possess genuine flame." Upon taking sight of the ledger that Ladd had opened, the dark elf scratched his head, "I don't wish to see Entity Kirito disposed of, incidentally...."

     "I merely crave to have him tested, and scanned. Even if you are capable of dispatching him, I'm forced to stress that I may need this fellow in the future for certain endeavors I have in mind, but I've a yearning to discern whether or not his adeptness has real mettle." He waves his hand nonchalantly, as if banishing something some his sights, "...But let us not get too mired in trivial details. So long as his functionality is not permanently hampered, and he doesn't discover I beseeched you to have him hamstrung, then I've nary concerns remaining on the slate." Presumably, this reveals that the drow wishes to eventually 'recruit' Kirito, rather than the siphon the fellow's power.

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    The suggestion of most people's... well, basically being wusses, at least here it seems, gets a nod from Gaffgarion. "You do have a point there, good Ser," he agrees. "I suppose t'would be much worse for us if there had been some real resistance. But, to quote a statement I have heard, most of the people who work here simply 'put in their time and go home'. The table is likely no great loss to the business." He raises a hand, waves it noncommitally.

    And then there is talk of Kirito and Ineryon's purpose for him. "Not eliminated, you say?" Gaffagion rubs his chin. "He will remain in as few pieces as I can manage. I will endeavor to keep that to a single-digit measure if at all possible." He chuckles, and then leans back in his seat. "I jest. I will leave him alive. You clearly have future plans for the fellow. What can you tell me of him?"

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Ineryon's eyelids lazily drop a touch, tiredly, as he hears the snippet about them putting in their time and going home, commenting, "....How enjoyable their lives must be, to spend their whole course wasting hours to earn monetary gain, only to waste money in old age to earn a greater chronological persistence through purchase of panacea prescribed by physicians...."

     To him, this seemed as though people were just chasing their own tails for the majority of the spell they dwelled within the mortal coil, albeit, this dark elf never claimed to be any sort of optimist, did he? Then again, the same could be true of himself, except he was actively trying to find what he believed was a solution to the curse that afflicted all sentient, as well as sapient things! With a shake of his head, the drow displays his aversion towards the proposal of Kirito being terminated, "If he dies, then you will receive no compensatory denominations for your efforts, assuming his death is directly a result of your actions. /Obviously/, if he has an unexpected stroke, then you could not be faulted, since there would be no viable way of predicting that as a consequence of your deeds. Fair enough?"

     Flicking his hair aside as he tosses his head back, he grumbles, "Ughh... No offense, Entity Gafgarion, but if I knew enough about him to speak of the man beyond his name, I might've given you a few more clues from the get-go, if you know what I mean? The fact is, the less knowledge I volunteer, the more work you must do, which is costly to me. Be it known that I am not an eccentric spender.... I wouldn't say I haggle until the end of time, but I /do/ try to whittle expenses to whatever measure I can.... The answer, therefore, is that I am so nescient to his collective wholeness, that all I know is what I have described." Staring blankly at the dark knight, he inquires, "....Is this satisfactory?"

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    "I believe t'is less enjoyable and more boring," Gaffgarion replies. "Had they something else to occupy their time, perhaps living as human sheep would not be enough for them." Here he shrugs. "As you say, less issue for us." Since clearly he and Interyon had backbone! Probably not so much Ladd, but that may change once the young boy grew up.

    The Fell Knight nods to the terms of compensation. "That sounds fair," he agrees. "Though as you need him alive, should an outside force intervene, I will ensure his health as well as I can." He's no White Mage, but that's why he keeps potions handy all the time!

    "Hmm. I see." Gaffgarion doesn't seem at all put off by this. He has a few contacts he can shake for information in the Multiverse, after all. Besides that? "Ladd. You will need to start looking through one of those... computing things." He's talking about a computer, yes. Gaffgarion is skilled at many things. However, one of those is not, unfortunately, dealing with technology. Nonetheless Ladd nods, and makes some more notes on his little pad.

Ineryon (615) has posed:
     Offering a half-smile, Ineryon stands fully, and his ankle is already starting its torque so that he might be on his way, "Entity Gafgarion.... when most people interact with others, even if just meeting them, they have a custom of saying something to the effect of 'a pleasure', though, for myself, this is rarely said, being that I take up not the vice of fibbing." Looking over his shoulder, his grin sustains itself, "...Today's business was a pleasure." Which said something for how tolerable Gafgarion was, even if the dark knight shared no true compassion for the drow.

     Ineryon Valos was not the breed to solicit for worship, for understanding, for validation-- all he wanted to do was to get pursuits accomplished. The highly-emotional fluff could be left to persons who wanted to be helped through their trials in life so that they could endure it another day; Ineryon wanted nothing of the sort, for he merely wished to find a backdoor. "Farewell, Entity Gafgarion. I shall await your invoice once you've taken the time to do a well-contemplated calculation of the initial fees, as well as the conclusive ones. Good luck in your quest, master of swords, and cutter of energy...."

Goffard Gaffgarion (493) has posed:
    Gaffgarion stands as well when Ineryon does. "I thank you, Ser. It was indeed a pleasure." Because he's going to get paid if he gets info, of course. The promise of getting paid is always a pleasure! Ladd stands as well, and offers a polite bow, but does not otherwise speak. Gaffgarion has him trained to not speak unless spoken to a good deal of the time.

    "It will be forwarded to you presently," Gaffgarion replies, of the invoice. "Thank you very much for your patronage, and do take care until our next meeting, Ser Ineryon." Only in the Multiverse could he say that in the middle of New York, even dressed in a modern suit, and have nobody bat an eyelash at him.