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Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
Post by Thomas Dunn on Feb 4, 2017 20:43:20 GMT -7
He wasn't surprised at Vincent's decision. He likely saw himself as the pathetic failure Tom could have marked him as an hour ago. What was surprising, was how the man was still going to withhold Thomas' well-deserved prize. He had planned to be operating tonight. He was excited for it.
Vincent was not going to prevent him from doing that... And Tom had the contract to ensure such a thing. His face twisted to look at Vincent with confusion, and then it flipped into a false empathy that Tom was more than well-versed in. "I'm afraid Lord Woodrow had not kept you well-informed, Vincent... This tour was for your benefit, a favour, if you will. The contract has already signed the girl to my care for the benefit of the SSPB."
He motioned for Vincent to follow him and made his way to his study, where he found his folder sitting on his desk. Handing it over to Vincent, he leaned on the desk and cross his arms, permitting Vincent a chance to read the documents within. The contracts Woodrow had signed. "Here I assumed you were merely practicing your due diligence."
Post by Vincent Laeretti on Feb 4, 2017 21:01:38 GMT -7
He didn't like that look on Thomas's face. Such patronizing mock pity, the same sort of expressions he'd been using all evening. If there was one thing that Vincent had been able to determine about Thomas from near the instant they met, it was that he held an incredibly high opinion of himself. The more time to do spent together, the more this just became increasingly apparent. And never had a man looked more smug than when he told Vincent that Lord Woodrow had already signed the girl into his possession.
Vincent was well aware already that Woodrow had signed the man's contract. He was not aware that this contact had supposedly stipulated that Plague be handed over unquestioningly. And Vincent still felt rather confident that if any sort of illegal activity could have been confirmed, the contract would be null and void then and there - contracts could not be legally binding if they operated outside of the law.
He did not speak when he followed Thomas, nor when he was handed the contract at last. He simply opened the folder and began to read. The first red flag was that it was thick, several pages. He knew without even having to ask that Lord Woodrow had not read it in its entirety, likely too concerned with how long it would take to demonstrate responsibility.
Vincent scoured every page. Even with his fast eyes, the process took maybe ten full minutes of silence for him to read it all. When he was finished, he set the folder down on the desk.
"I'm sure you must feel quite proud of yourself," he stated calmly. "You've successfully managed to waste time for us both. And you even managed to obtain legal amnesty from the world's foremost legal spearhead. Bravo, Dr. Dunn."
Vincent met Tom's eyes now, and though his expression was as impassive as ever, his eyes were hard and icy. Lord Woodrow, the fool, had signed away the SSPB's rights to persecute Thomas Dunn on any legal wrongdoing. Even if he had been violating a law tonight, Vincent would not have been able to refuse him. And the contract did indeed swear over the rights to the pirate, regardless.
There was nothing Vincent could do about this. Not at the moment.
Post by Thomas Dunn on Feb 4, 2017 23:26:52 GMT -7
Every page, he was going over every page. Tom watched every second, reveling in it. This game had been won - it had been won before it began, but he was proud even so. He was even more proud as Vincent made his "cutting" statements - though he feigned humility. He wasn't a sore winner, after all. Not in the transcripts, anyways.
"A mere protection. As you've seen here today, I run everything above board. As much as you seem to dislike me personally, you've seen the good I've done with my patients... And Lord Woodrow sees the good he can do with my aid. You do wish to see The Defiled Grail sink, don't you?"
He let that hang for a minute, and then took the folder back with one hand, snapping it shut at the same time. It was returned to the desk, and he put a firm hand on Vincent's back to guide him out of the room. "Now, if there's nothing else, why don't I return you to your vessel."
Post by Vincent Laeretti on Feb 5, 2017 2:13:23 GMT -7
Vincent reacted in a flash, using one arm to smack the doctor's arm forcefully away from him the moment it had found purchase at his back. He made sure to put enough strength into the blow that it would hurt, though not enough to inflict any lasting damage. Perhaps a bruise. It did succeed in making Tom take one step back, at least. The two stood quietly for a moment in Dunn's office, staring at each other. Vincent's expression remained cold, and while Thomas continued to smile Vincent was certain he saw displeasure in his eyes now. Whether at having been struck or simply at Vincent in general, it was anyone's guess.
"I've certainly seen all you do here," Vincent replied, his voice quiet and firm. "And more than that, I've seen well past the veneer you decorate it all with, and I see what you intend to do."
Vincent could not see everything for certain. He could not know the exact truth. But he knew the difference between a subtle bad feeling and his intuition practically screaming at him. This was not a good man. This was a man who had probably done terrible things that could not yet be proven. He probably intended to do worse things yet. He had an old-strain merfolk lady who likely didn't possess a real name, and who had an impossible pair of legs. He had a hospital situated in uninhabitable land, seemingly beneath the awareness or the care of the government.
And he had specified a contract in which he would be immune from all legal consequences of his future actions from the SSPB. This was not a man who could be trusted.
Vincent turned away from him and began marching down the hall, not bothering to look back at Thomas. "You will have your prisoner, Dunn."
Vincent supposed that many men in his position may have felt the need to tack on a little something extra. Some sort of assurance that he would be back. A promise that he had not yet won. Some sort of smart remark. Vincent felt no such need. If Thomas was as smart as he liked to act, then he would know without Vincent's saying so that he should not drop his guard.
And if he wasn't, then Vincent would openly welcome his carelessness.
Vincent guided himself out of the hospital, moving at a pace that had him losing Dunn less than half way through the trip. He had already radioed his men by the time he was nearing the main entrance, and had told them where to fly. Dunn had insisted earlier that this place was not built for airships, that they could not land here. Vincent didn't need the damn thing to land. He stepped out into the open front area of the facility, Thomas's aeroplane parked nearby, and spotted his own airship coming in already. Clearly it wasn't a very long trip. Thomas had likely just wasted time with his theatrics when they had flown over here earlier.
The ship came to a slow descent, hovering around fifty feet above the ground. Vincent spoke into the pin at his collar: "Lower the girl." A moment later, he could see Plague being carefully harnessed as the disembarking dock was opened, his men attaching a line to her harness and guiding her down. She looked initially panicked as she was expelled from the airship, calming only once she realized she was not being set into a free fall. Vincent was there to receive her once she had made ground, undoing her harness.
He turned back towards the hospital, and was unsurprised to see that Thomas had caught up with him. Vincent marched Plague over towards the door, where the doctor was waiting, and shoved her forward. Thomas caught her, and Vincent didn't bother looking at him any longer than was necessary.
"Careful with that one," he said casually as he stepped back towards the dangling rope ladder his men had already lowered for him. He placed a hand and a foot on it, and the ship began its ascent almost as soon as he did so. He gave the hospital one last look as he rose towards the sky. Tom and Plague watched him go, but they quickly faded from sight as the ship pulled away from the hospital grounds, and Vincent focused his attention on climbing the rope ladder while the ship moved at a slow cruise.
"How did it go?" one guard asked once Vincent had returned to the deck and the ship was able to safely move at a faster pace.
"Quite well for Dr. Dunn," Vincent replied coldly.
"...Not so well for us, I imagine."
"Surely any arrangement of Lord Woodrow's that is successful is good for us, is it not, Edmund?"
He paid the man a sideways glance, and saw the guard square his jaw, his eyes narrowed somewhat as he kept his eyes forward. This was not the first time this man in particular had been second-hand witness to a more questionable move by Lord Woodrow. "Of course."
Vincent simply watched the scenery quietly for a bit, stars giving way to clouds as the ship eventually began to descend. "We'll be back," he promised.
OOC Note: As usual, let me know if any of this doesn't add up with what Tom would have done! Otherwise, feel free to make the closer!
As Vincent reacted roughly to his touch, Tom was almost certain he'd have a fight on his hands. He had two choices in that moment: Fight back, slam his knee into Vincent and watch him crumple, then call Black in to 'deal with him' - or stand there, looking somewhat shocked. The latter would be better for his contract, and so he did... And it turned out that Vincent wasn't acting like a suspicious officer, he was acting like an impetuous child. A child who had lost the game they had been playing, and who had decided to pack up their toys and go home.
The moment Vincent was out of the room, Tom made pursuit. He arrived at the front door just as the airship was arriving, and had to laugh. What would Woodrow think when Vincent returned with the prisoner? What would he think when he received a harshly worded letter regarding their contract? How would he punish dear little, petulant Vincent? Firing him seemed too gentle. Tom would prefer something more creative. In his darkest fantasies, Woodrow sent Vincent here - another subject for Tom to play with.
Alas, such fantasies could not be real. The girl was being lowered by harnesses from the airship, her struggle ceased for a moment while in danger of falling. Once her feet touched the ground however, she seemed ready to run. It was too bad that Vincent's grip was fuelled by anger, and Tom's when he caught her was fuelled by pride. His grip certainly wasn't as tight as the Officer's, but she wasn't about to wriggle herself free.
"Seems he's not going to say goodbye," He whispered with a chuckle, watching Vincent raise back into the ship. Oh how Tom wished he could hear the idiot whining to his Lord on return. Instead, he busied himself with observing his new subject. Her skin was rough like sandpaper, and she smelled a little of death. At first he wondered if it might have been the poor treatment of prisoners in the SSPB - but when he turned her about in his arms and saw her face, he realized that it was her. She looked like a walking corpse. It was unfortunate he was only supposed to do mind control on her... He was interested in learning precisely what made her look this way.
"Shh, my dear. Your future is going to hold such great potential." Her eyes widened at this, and she struggled more, tossing and turning in his arms as she looked at the ways out through the chain fence. He observed the way her bones cracked and twisted, and realized she would be far, far more useful than the SSPB could have imagined. "The nearest city is not walking distance, my dear. You'll be far better off inside with a warm meal, and a warm bed."
"What are you going to do to me?" She asked, finally looking up at him in the way he most liked. A helpless child, despite her age. Weak. Completely at his will. Tom just smiled, and forced her in through the front door, locking both of them as he went with his spare hand. She asked the question again as he manhandled her up the stairs, he tripping more than once out of sheer unwillingness. He still didn't answer. He finally got her to her own room, and plopped her roughly onto the bed where she asked the question again. Vincent didn't give me a key for her manacles, He thought with a sigh, grabbing a small pick and working away at the tiny keyhole. She asked the question again, and this time: He answered.
"Saving you from the gallows," He told her succinctly, petting her hair gently, "Now sleep. You'll need your energy."
He let her go and stood up, taking only a step back before she dove for the door. Pathetic. He was quicker than her - she had likely gone without much in the way of food or water in the last week - and slammed his knee into her gut. She crumpled to the ground and vomited, the minimal contents of her stomach emptying onto the floor as she gasped for breath. Each gasp was followed by a cough, the result of bile sucking into her lungs. Tom grasped her hair by its roots and pulled her up, slamming her back onto the bed with enough force that her head bounced with a crack against the wall. She wasn't knocked out, but she was woozy, clutching her head. "Sleep. You'll need your energy... And when you awaken, clean up that disgusting mess. Children should keep their rooms clean."
She whined at this, no longer having the sense of mind to stand up, let alone to run. Tom left the room, the door clanging shut, the lock crunching loudly. This was going to be fun.
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