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driftfleet2016-10-13 05:39 pm
lord_wizard) wrote in driftfleet2016-10-13 05:39 pm
Entry tags:
eleventh labyrinth
Who: Felix Harrowgate
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: The junkyard station
When: This evening
[His trips into the station over the past week had been going rather well. The extension to the library was filling up with small boxes of random bits and baubles and he had more than a few commissions in progress for the larger essentials that would help fill the space. There was plenty more to search out, however.
In truth, he'd started to get comfortable. He'd taken precautions to appear mundane, at the sacrifice of his considerable vanity, but he'd made it obvious to merchants that he had resources and credits to spare to get what he wanted, and in turn many of them had jumped to his aid.
Thus, he doesn't think much of it when one man leads him towards the back of his cluttered little shop.]
Yes, sir. I think we found just what you were asking for. Got it back here if you'd like to take a look...
[He enters through the back door. It looks like a back office, shelves cluttered with supplies. He'd been looking for a decent writing desk and there's certainly one in here, but it doesn't look like one that's for sale. He turns around with the question on his lips but finds he's not alone. A larger man, waiting behind the door, smiles back.]
Wait-- [The men move before he can say more. Felix lunges for the door, but he knows it's too late, knows and struggles anyway as the muscled arms grab him behind as the merchant shoves him back, kicking the door shut. He can't fight, but he's tall, and the height almost helps. His hand makes it to the handle of the door as he tries to twist his body free.
Blinding pain against the side of his head. It comes from his right, so he doesn't even see what it had been. Pointless to know, in any case, as things go dark...
He wakes up some time later, though he can't begin to guess how much. It's the same room, though dimmer. Light comes in through the cracks of the door in front of him, enough to help him make out the details. He's definitely alone, but he's tied into a chair. Secure enough of a cage for someone of so little threat.
Something like a laugh almost escapes his throat as he considers that idea. His anonymity here might very well be his saving grace. They'd probably never tried to kidnap a wizard before.
But he also knows why they'd do such a thing in the first place. Fenris had enlightened that which he might have tried to ignore. They meant to sell him, and the very idea makes his bleary consciousness snap into sharp awareness in sheer panic. He shifts in his bonds, testing them. Binding his hands was a good start, but it merely makes magic difficult, not impossible. The ropes are rough but not loose enough to pull free from. No spell could untie a knot, of course, but there had to be something.
His throat dries up as the solution volunteers itself. But anything has to be better than this. Felix closes his eyes and calls fire to his hands. The ropes catch just as planned, sizzling and hissing, but it also scorches his skin, catching onto the sleeve of his coat. He can't hold in the yelp of pain this time, but yanks his wrists free of the bonds, snuffing the fire out of his clothes.
He can feel the burns but bends to unties the ropes around his ankles next, sensing his time is short. His communicator is laying on the desk, if he can just reach--
The door slams open just as the last rope comes free as the larger thug bursts in, annoyance flashing into anger as he sees Felix stand up. No time to think about other options. Even now, he can't bring himself to kill. He calls lightning instead, aiming for the lights just behind the man, and the bulbs crack and burst in a shower of sparks. He flinches back and Felix moves. He snatches up his communicator, rushing past the man and pulling the door shut behind him. A simple locking spell applied to the handle just as he hears a shout and rattle. It won't hold and he knows it.
He turns his communicator on and starts to run]
[The view of a shop on the station jostles to view behind him as he hustles. He knows there's little chance he's going to get out of this on his own] If there's anyone out there...please...I need...
[There's the shout of another voice from the side and the picture blurs as the wizard turns sideways, trying to dodge] No!
[Things lurch more violently as he falls, and the communicator drops, spinning to a stop on the ground. It's clearly somewhere on the junk station - and one of the grafted on sections as well. There isn't much else to make out from the background, though a myriad of salvaged lamps line the ceiling of the shop like gaudy mismatched stars.]
Where do you think you're going? [Another voice that isn't Felix's accompanied by scuffling and the unmistakable impact of something hitting flesh.
Seconds later, a flash of a face looking down at the device: a copper-skinned human, short dark hair, and the line of a small scar across his brow.
A moment after that, the shadow of a boot, and then, nothing...]
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: The junkyard station
When: This evening
[His trips into the station over the past week had been going rather well. The extension to the library was filling up with small boxes of random bits and baubles and he had more than a few commissions in progress for the larger essentials that would help fill the space. There was plenty more to search out, however.
In truth, he'd started to get comfortable. He'd taken precautions to appear mundane, at the sacrifice of his considerable vanity, but he'd made it obvious to merchants that he had resources and credits to spare to get what he wanted, and in turn many of them had jumped to his aid.
Thus, he doesn't think much of it when one man leads him towards the back of his cluttered little shop.]
Yes, sir. I think we found just what you were asking for. Got it back here if you'd like to take a look...
[He enters through the back door. It looks like a back office, shelves cluttered with supplies. He'd been looking for a decent writing desk and there's certainly one in here, but it doesn't look like one that's for sale. He turns around with the question on his lips but finds he's not alone. A larger man, waiting behind the door, smiles back.]
Wait-- [The men move before he can say more. Felix lunges for the door, but he knows it's too late, knows and struggles anyway as the muscled arms grab him behind as the merchant shoves him back, kicking the door shut. He can't fight, but he's tall, and the height almost helps. His hand makes it to the handle of the door as he tries to twist his body free.
Blinding pain against the side of his head. It comes from his right, so he doesn't even see what it had been. Pointless to know, in any case, as things go dark...
He wakes up some time later, though he can't begin to guess how much. It's the same room, though dimmer. Light comes in through the cracks of the door in front of him, enough to help him make out the details. He's definitely alone, but he's tied into a chair. Secure enough of a cage for someone of so little threat.
Something like a laugh almost escapes his throat as he considers that idea. His anonymity here might very well be his saving grace. They'd probably never tried to kidnap a wizard before.
But he also knows why they'd do such a thing in the first place. Fenris had enlightened that which he might have tried to ignore. They meant to sell him, and the very idea makes his bleary consciousness snap into sharp awareness in sheer panic. He shifts in his bonds, testing them. Binding his hands was a good start, but it merely makes magic difficult, not impossible. The ropes are rough but not loose enough to pull free from. No spell could untie a knot, of course, but there had to be something.
His throat dries up as the solution volunteers itself. But anything has to be better than this. Felix closes his eyes and calls fire to his hands. The ropes catch just as planned, sizzling and hissing, but it also scorches his skin, catching onto the sleeve of his coat. He can't hold in the yelp of pain this time, but yanks his wrists free of the bonds, snuffing the fire out of his clothes.
He can feel the burns but bends to unties the ropes around his ankles next, sensing his time is short. His communicator is laying on the desk, if he can just reach--
The door slams open just as the last rope comes free as the larger thug bursts in, annoyance flashing into anger as he sees Felix stand up. No time to think about other options. Even now, he can't bring himself to kill. He calls lightning instead, aiming for the lights just behind the man, and the bulbs crack and burst in a shower of sparks. He flinches back and Felix moves. He snatches up his communicator, rushing past the man and pulling the door shut behind him. A simple locking spell applied to the handle just as he hears a shout and rattle. It won't hold and he knows it.
He turns his communicator on and starts to run]
[The view of a shop on the station jostles to view behind him as he hustles. He knows there's little chance he's going to get out of this on his own] If there's anyone out there...please...I need...
[There's the shout of another voice from the side and the picture blurs as the wizard turns sideways, trying to dodge] No!
[Things lurch more violently as he falls, and the communicator drops, spinning to a stop on the ground. It's clearly somewhere on the junk station - and one of the grafted on sections as well. There isn't much else to make out from the background, though a myriad of salvaged lamps line the ceiling of the shop like gaudy mismatched stars.]
Where do you think you're going? [Another voice that isn't Felix's accompanied by scuffling and the unmistakable impact of something hitting flesh.
Seconds later, a flash of a face looking down at the device: a copper-skinned human, short dark hair, and the line of a small scar across his brow.
A moment after that, the shadow of a boot, and then, nothing...]
no subject
"Ah, excuse me?" A voice chimes in, from the doorway, sticking out a finger in a gesture to request attention. Syeira too, had heard the call for help, and come investigating. She'd gotten this by asking literally everyone she saw the street nicely for information, occasionally gently bribing memories back to clarity. She'd come in just behind Wanda, quiet and stealthy by habit, and lingered there to take in the scene. Now she steps around the woman in front of her.
"So sorry to interrupt, but I really must say, you're being extremely suspicious, sir." She walks forward, giving polite nods to the gathered group that's already standing there, looking all intimidating and frowny.
"I mean, it's a very amateur move to try and gruff everyone out. Not that you're an amateur, of course. You just probably never got caught before. Don't feel bad. There's a first time for everything."
She's all kindness and charm, helped along by her shimmery magic cloak. The proverbial good cop.
"A bit of friendly advice: it's best to be helpful over hostile. Something, I suggest you keep in mind."
no subject
Tell that to your friends. [He jabs a finger at Crowley, Wanda, and Katsa]
Look, miss, I don't want any trouble, and too much trouble isn't good for business. If I tell you what you want to know, you promise your gang here won't try anything?
no subject
A gang like we're going to start singing about the Jets or whatever, ugh. Listen, you can tell us what we need to know, or you'll find yourself in heaps of trouble. More trouble than you know what to do with actually.
[The demon circled around, picking up one of the nick-nacks on sale, turning it this way and that in his hands. ]
I'd be very helpful and truthful to the nice ladies if I were you. It would be dreadful if your stock suddenly stopped existing.
no subject
Alright, alright....just...put that down. He's in the back. I'll show you.
[He moves back towards the rear of the shop again, and eyes the demon apprehensively, clearly hoping he'll both not smash whatever that was on the floor and let him pass]
Ladies...[He eyes the others over his shoulder, both resentful acknowledgement and an invitation to follow]