Gargoyles Go House Hunting

Gargoyles Go House Hunting
Date of Scene:	11 April 2013
Location:	Fluorgis - City
Synopsis:	Since gargoyles do tend to clan together, Zia and Percival go house-hunting for a decent roost in Fluorgis.
Cast of Characters:	Zia, Percival

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Percival has posed:
The search for World Shards of Manhatten had finished in a relatively spectacular fashion, but the russet-skinned Gargoyle found his celebratory mood rather short. What remained of his world was nearly just as xenophobic as before, and being unable to walk around freely in the city had put a damper on his plans for living there.

At first exploration of the World of Ruin had satiated his curiosity, and staved off loneliness, but as of late he'd been spending so much time at VALKYRI and the Shard Seeker's headquarters that he might as well have moved in. And so..

The search for a perfect roost began!

It didn't take much to recruit Zia, given her shared bunks at the Shard Seeker's HQ, and soon the two were ranging across Fluorgis, combing the city for a perfect spot. It had to be the right mix of being at a high enough altitude that they'd be undisturbed by the authorities for squatting, and yet still practical and accomodating for the pair.

For the moment, they were atop an abandoned building, which had been condemned after Fluorgis merged with Karnak, causing it to appear strange and amorphous, like two buildings crunched together. While it certainly had a few qualities they might have been looking for, it just didn't seem /high/ enough. The Gargoyle was at a loss for what might be a better location for the two, so as he stood upon the roof once more with her, with arms crossed, he'd look in the direction of the airship port. His fin-like ears folding back as he contemplated the frustrating issue of what might fit. "Are there any landmarks you can think of, that might suit us?"

Squinting at her, he'd give her a smile. "You know, I don't think we've ever talked all that much about you. Fancy telling a duffer a little more about yourself, while we look?"

Zia has posed:
For all that Zia might be firmly entrenched with the Shard Seekers, sleeping in the dorms or perching out on the roof never did sit quite well with her. The white gargoyle had grown up on high cliff peeks and ruined castles, and her nature means that few places too close to the ground really feel 'safe'. The more renown the group gets, the more her stone sleep would be a danger, too. It was better to find someplace to call her own than to continue to depend on others to babysit her on the days when she still chose to sleep as the rest of her kind did. She may no longer have a strict need for it, but it worked better than healers and medicine for wound.

The white gargoyle toes at a bit of debris on the floor, watching a puff of dust puff up. The prospect of sharing a roost with another gargoyle is more comfortable then with a group. They naturally drew together in clans, and Percival was already as close to her as a rookery sibling, so it seems a suitable arrangement. "Ach, wha a mess." She notes, shaking her head. There had been some hopes for this location, but in the end, the rooms were too mooshed together, and there were places where things seemed to cut off in mid-air. It gave the place a creepy feel, like it was half in one place, half in another.

As she joins Percival on the rooftop, the pale girl shrugs, her tail twitching. "Ah mostly stuck close te Headquarters, especially durin the attacks." The wind blows some of her hair back as she stands on the ledge, feeling the air currents with her wings. "Maybe see if there's anythin down near low-town. If we're too close te the markets, then it's more likely we'll get found." She returns his smile then, ears lifting slightly, "It's a place te start."

She seems about to take to the sky when his question stops her. Head tilting, the gargoyle chuckles to herself. "Wha do ye wante know?"

Percival has posed:
"Its not just a mess, its a right disaster." He'd grin at her so wide that he was showing his teeth. The prospect of staying with another Gargoyle had lightened his mood considerably, even if the first location they found certainly wasn't ideal. Perseverance was key after all.

His expression became a teasing one as he ribbed her. "A high place in low town. As good an idea as any other. But right, further away from the market is a good idea. Would be nice to have a way for visitors to reach it too, without us having to carry them up every time. That friend of yours, Skoll, he's pretty nimble, but even he might get annoyed if we made it too inconvenient for our landbound mates."

And as if the thought had already occurred to him to leave this place, his wings unfurled to their full wing span, as he took his place on the edge of the condemned building. A small piece of it crumpled into a fine mortar like dust as he stood there, almost threatening to dump him over the side, not that he minded. A fall was rather easy to recover from for their kind. "Lead the way. And mayhaps you could tell me a little something of happier times. Growing up I suppose, and how you came to be such an accomplished mystic."

Zia has posed:
"Well, Ah dinnae see ye comin up with a wealth of ideas sir knight." Zia quips back playfully, that smile staying perched on her lips as she steps towards the edge of the rooftop. There's a strange feeling of vertigo, almost as if the place might topple out from beneath them. "Ah think there might be a few likely places." She continues, using her wings for balance as she piushes off, sweeping the wind with them.

Much of the city had small shops that weren't more than two stories. Not many places for a gargoyle to roost. Here and there, though, taller structures dot the skyline. The mention of Skoll brings a bit of heat to her cheeks, but Zia doesn't want to dwell too much on that thought just now. She's still not sure what to think about the 'date' he'd taken her on, or on the prospect of anything that resembles a relationship. Too many uncertain thoughts.

The winds are slow tonight, causing them to have to take their time over the rooftops, gliding up and sweeping around before heading towards the darker parts of the city. These were areas where the poorer folks lived. It's more run down, but there's also a higher chance to find abandoned places that might serve well enough. "Happier times, huh?" She seems amused then, ducking below a passing search light.

"Well, our clan was small. Just m'da, mum, aunt, brother, 'n beast. Mum usually took care of us, while da went out 'n hunted or scavanged from the humans. M'aunt usually scouted for humans gettin' too close." She pauses then, shifting with an updraft. "We moved around a lot, but we always had each other." Against the moonlight, it's harder to read her expression, but it seems fond rather than sad at the story of her family. "My brother 'n Ah usedte go out with the beast 'n play. Big dumb thing, it was. Liked te chew on manhole covers. M'brother used te try te ride 'im around like he was some knight from one of m'da's stories."

Percival has posed:
"Well excuse me, Princess. I'm deferring to her majesty here." And then he pushed off, following her in the air.

As they soared, his gaze swept over the taller structures, but like Zia, he didn't see much that was suitable. The town was rather old-fashioned after all in architecture. Not knowing about Zia's current /relationship status/ he doesn't exactly comment on it. Not that he has any right to give any relationship advice anyhow. He hadn't seen the flush of her cheeks anyhow, so he wasn't tipped off to it.

Their slow flight passed by uneventfully. "Sure, why not? Better than me being all doom and gloom all the time. I'd rather see you smile." And then he too hurriedly banked to evade the search light. He's quiet for a while longer to make sure they were in the clear, before he continued "Sounds like you two had a right fun time. Your brother wanted to be a knight, did he? Sounds like all of my rookery brothers. Whatever happened to your beast? My clan didn't have any beasties, but I'm told that the other clan in London has a few. You know, the other clan from England, they look a lot different from you or me. One looked like a gryphon, straight from the tales, and one looked like a cross between a unicorn and a pegasus. Right strange, but wondrous too."

Zia has posed:
"Ah smile plenty, lad. Yer the one who's always sittin under a rain cloud." Zia notes. She could make it literal if she wanted to, but for right now she doesn't think he needs an actual rain cloud following him around. The night is fairly clear over Fluorgis, but there are only sparce stars. Maybe it's the city lights, or maybe it's a sign that more worlds are falling into the darkness. For now, all she can hope is that it's the former, rather than the later.

"Aye. M'da filled his head with old stories aboot the Arthur 'n his knights, or the old tales of kings 'n castles. M'brother's eyes would light up wheneva he sat down te tell one of his tales. Wouldnae sit still otherwise, but when da came settled te give us a story, i'twas hard te nae get swept up in it." There's a fondness in her voice. She'd been a daddy's girl all of her life, and it was no great surprise that she followed in his footsteps rather than her mother's. "M'aunt, brother took the beast wi' them when they left. Ah was still young then, 'n they tried te get me te come wi, but... Ah couldnae just leave." It would have meant the end of her clan, and she couldn't just leave her parents behind.

"Strange creatures, these other gargoyles. Ah mean, m'line isnae pure Sco'ish blood either, but at least we dinnae look like animals." There were some subtle differences in Zia's physology that made her stand out from others that had called Wyvern their home in olden times. Mostly, it's in the fact that she lacks the pronounced eye-ridges that the others have. It's a more human look, but only just. "Ah would have liked te meet them, yer clan 'n these others."

Percival has posed:
He'd smile in a self-depreciating sort of way. "And I'm supposing I am, at that." And as if sensing her thoughts, he'd put his hands up over his face. "Don't be getting any ideas of zapping me with an actual rain cloud now!"

"Think I would have liked your father. They're my favorite stories as well, for obvious reasons. You don't get a name that's about piercing the vale if you don't have a fondness for the old tales." He'd continue to bank and swoop to fly close enough to her that he might continue to listen to her over the currents of air whistling in their ears.

"I see." He decides not to press her further on the subject of what happened to her family afterwards. Instead changing the subject to herself. "And where'd you learn of the arcane?"

And then on to the subject of the other clan. "Well, my clan's bloodline is more Scottish stock than anything. We haven't had any real interaction with the other clan for a few hundred years. They're right upset with us for the deals we had to make with the humans to survive. And wouldn't take us in when our clan had a feud going on with one of the monarchs. Guess I can't fault them for not wanting to get involved, what they don't know is that the treaty we made protects them as well. We sometimes see each other, but we don't really talk all that much."

He'd give her a wry smile. "But maybe all they're waiting for is a plucky outsider to come in and warm their hearts. I'm told there's nearly two hundred of 'em, in their own home."

Zia has posed:
Without saying a word, Zia just waggles her fingers at the ducking form of Pervical, a smirk on her lips. As funny as it would be, she's not quite that mean. Not yet. Wait until he's actually acting moody and then there might be some cloud action, or maybe just a lightning blast to the behind. That should work.

Once they're past the heart of the market district, things quiet down a bit. There are only a few lights in the windows, and the occassional flickering street lamp. There are still some people out on the streets, mostly skulking in shadows, smoking cigarettes or lurking around small fires set in trash cans. There are a few decent prospects among these dark streets, though. One seems to be an abandoned watchtower, which might have guarded over this part of the city in better days. The other is a boarded up building that may have once belonged to some rich noble, but it's clearly been ransacked in recent years.

"M'da in the beginnin. He usedte be a mage's apprentice back b'fore he met m'mum. After tha..." She shrugs, knowing that this part of the answer isn't really a happy one, "Valen." The human sorcerer who had kept her prisoner is not a pleasant thing to recall, especially since she still carries some measure of responsibility for his death.

Time to change the subject. "So, how boot you then? Growin up in a big clan, ye must have had some adventures."

Percival has posed:
He'd peak out from behind his hands after a moment, giving her a sheepish look. He didn't quite get the message yet, but he certainly would the next time he started acting moody.

He starts banking towards the abandoned watchtower, to give it a peak first. He had a feeling that they'd have fewer chances of being discovered there than the abandoned building, but he planned on checking it too. After a time, he'd slow his flight by tilting his wings just enough to bring him to a landing, his feet taking hold of the edge of the tower. He'd tap his chin speculatively, before gesturing for Zia to go first, in a sort of /after you/ type gesture.

She answered with the name Valen. Another unhappy subject he managed to touch upon. He seemed to be quite good at that. Eventually he'd like to hear the story. "That so? How does one start learning? I keep trying to have Ser Senra try to teach me some magic, but mayhaps he thinks I'm hopeless, or that he just doesn't have the time."

"Eh. Not as many as you'd think. I used to sneak out often to the cinema, had a passion for old films. Then television. Didn't catch on with my clan until recently. They're traditionalists at times, thought the box would be a bad influence on the hatchlings and squires. Got into a lot of mischief with Gwyndolyn. Always tried to take the blame for her, she wouldn't let me though. I think we were banished to the kitchen to scour pots more times than I can count and... ...I can count pretty high. Had a few times where a glimpse of me appeared in some of the gossip rags." He scratched the back of his neck. "The elders didn't much like that. Humans didn't either, but they were used to making sure it got dismissed as some tabloid myth. Sometimes took a few others out with us, but I was always considered the strange one among my rookery brothers and sisters. Usually didn't have many repeat trips except between me and her."

Zia has posed:
Zia's own thoughts seem to lean towards checking the watchtower, herself. She's had a bit too many encounters with humans, and the last thing they need is a place where looters might go looking for a quick but of munny. Backwinging, Zia comes to land on the outer balcony of the watchtower. It's sturdy stone, but clearly hasn't been used in a while. There's an old wooden door that leads inside, but it's cracked and leaning off-kilter on one hinge.

"Well, Ah showed a knack for it when Ah was a hatchling." She hesitates then, stepping towards the door. It's the sort of answer she would give a stranger, not a friend. "M'da said tha when Ah was real young, Ah used te make the clouds turn the shapes of anmials." Rubbing at the back of her neck, Zia's ears tuck down, giving the gargoyle a somewhat shy look. "Ah dinnae really remember it. But Ah suppose tha's where it all started from."

Absentmindedly, she pushes the door out of the way, then, and it creeks, and then falls to the ground with a crash and a flurry of dust. Coughing, Zia covers her mouth with a scarf around her neck. That's a familiar addition to her wardrobe at least. The inside is quiet dark, meaning that they'll probably have to find some sort of light source. Maybe there's a torch somewhere.

"Ah've got some of the mage's old spellbooks. Ah could try te teach ye if ye were interested." If nothing else, there were others trying to teach her a thing or two about fighting and self defense, so it's the least she could do to repay them for their kindness.

"Ye two sound like me 'n m'brother." Her tone takes on something whistful as she backs up a pace, letting the dust settle a bit. "We were always gettin inte trouble. Never anythin too terrible, but we did accidentally let one of the farmer's bulls out once. Chased us nearly all the way back te the castle."

Percival has posed:
He'd furl his wings, letting them come to rest upon his shoulders as he began searching for a torch inside. Not seeing any off hand, he eventually decided to just make his own. One of the chairs inside only appeared to have three legs, so he ripped off one of them, and then wrapped some dusty old rags around it securely. Hardly the best torch, but it was serviceable at least. He'd offer it over to Zia, as if implying that she might light it.

"Ha! So you were a prodigy even /before/ you can remember. Going to have to remember that." He'd grin from ear to ear at her. "I'd like that. Probably don't have the talent, but it can't hurt to try.." He tried to sound nonchalant, but he seemed almost nervous, as if he were barely containing his enthusiasm over the idea that he might learn some magic, and would perhaps be crushed by disappointment if he didn't really have the talent.

He'd breathe out a wistful sigh, trying his best to keep smiling. "She was my only real friend. For the longest of times it was like a piece of my soul was gone."

And then he hurriedly moved to change the subject before rainclouds would appear. "So, I met Skoll's sister, Hati. Trying to get her to help me with the problem I've been saddled with.."

Zia has posed:
Being offered the torch leaves the female gargoyle giving Percival a distinctly quizzical look. While she might have access to a range of air and water magic, she'd never shown any real skill with fire. In fact, the only place she seemed to be able to wield that sort of magic is in her dreams, and alas, last she checked, Percival is not the gargoyle of her dreams. So, she shrugs, reaching down to one of the various pouches hanging from her belt, fishing out an old, battered lighter. A couple of clicks and it lights, giving a feeble glow that she uses to ignite the torch.

"We'd needte get some sorta generator. Ah'm a modern gargoyle. There isnae any way Ah'm goin back te candlelight." Zia notes, stepping in to survey the surroundings. Though the place has surely been unoccupied for a long time, it seems to be in serviceable condition. This might have been a guardpost at one time, by the look of it. Besides the broken chair, there's also a desk, and a set of bunk beds that have more dustbunny than matress. The room is sparce, but there's possiblities with the space. A set of stairs leads down from an arched doorway.

"Ah suppose ye could say tha." For once, Zia doesn't argue with his appraisal of her magical skills. It's probably the one area of her life she has some pride in, although it's tempered with an equal measure of respect for the power at her command. "We're inately magical creatures, gargoyles. Even if ye cannae manage elemental magic, Ah'm sure there's a few spells ye could manage if ye had the right incantations."

With one talon, Zia fidgets with some of the items on the desk, trying not to upset too much dust in the process. "Hey." She notes, looking back at him, "Ah know Ah'm nae replacement for yer rookery sister, but ye know Ah'm here for ye. Besides, Ah'm just as much of a troublemaker, if nae worse." Her lips quirk into another of those playful sort of smiles. Just then, something crawls over her hand, and she jolts back, waggling her hand in the air. "Needs a good cleanin, this place does."

Mention of Skoll's sister draws her attention back around, her eyes warily scanning for more creepy crawlies. "Havenae met the lass. Heard she's a bit of a troublesome one, though. All tha talk aboot Shadow Lords 'n the like." She shrugs then. "Ye think it'll help?"

Percival has posed:
He'd hold out the torch as she produced the lighter, grinning. Well that answered that. He'd already been burned once, horribly in the past for assuming that a mage had magic that they didn't actually possess.

When she mentions something about a generator, he'd nod. "Would prefer to have some plumbing too. Wouldn't mind a small kitchen, but I have a feeling the smoke would attract unwanted wellwishers. Might just have to make use of the Shard Seeker's ovens whenever I have the urge to cook."

He'd move the torch slowly about, taking in the dusty old sights of the inside of the guard tower. "It has possibilities at least..." He'd peer closer at the desk and bunk beds, brushing off some dust from the lacquered wood of the desk with his palm. "Really? Huh. Its as Will tends to say, I'm a /newb/ when it comes to the supernatural. I had no idea. There's noone in my clan that knew magic, though it was rumored that there were some in the other clan who can."

He'd peer over his shoulder, arching a bony protrusion. "Never think that I'm trying to /replace/ her. Though I wouldn't mind a new partner in crime. What sort of troublemaking did you have in mind?"

He'd cough, as his palm worked up a cloud of dust, which wafted right in his face. "Definitely a fixer upper, if we chose this one..."

He'd shrug his shoulders when she spoke of Hati. "She definitely seems like a handful. Prickly too, that one. But she's made some good suggestions, and she's willing to help. Who knows, it might?" He definitely didn't want to discuss the consequences of failure with her though, so instead he lapsed into a silence as he peered into some of the corners of the room.

Zia has posed:
"Well, we could always look inte actually purchasing a place, or renting it or somethin." Zia suggests, and then laughs at herself. "Feels strange te suggest tha. Too many years scroungin 'n scavengin, but... in this world, it isnae as if we have little te offer. We're both adventurers of a sort." She moves away from the desk then, letting her talons leave patterned footprints in the dust. "B'sides, Ah cannae imagine whoever owns this place is gettin much out of it right now."

Moving down towards the stairs, Zia starts to peer into the darkness below. The steps are stone, so at least they're sturdy, but a but she waits for Percival's light to make sure she doesn't step through into nothingness. "Ah'm sure Ah could pull in a few favors. Ah've got a werewolf who's actually a fair moving service." She laughs again. "Stone's good, though. Nae rats or rot." She taps her talons on the walls. "Sturdy." Gargoyles did tend to break things...

"Well, Ah've got all sortsa trouble. Ever want te tangle with a plant monster tha throws wind magic?" Zia clearly has some strange ideas of hobbies. "Speakin of trouble, didye ever track down tha vampire'a yers?" That's probably a bit of a sore subject, but she is mostly asking in a curious tone.

"Think anywhere we pick would be a fixerupper." She notes, taking a cautious step forward, kicking a pebble to make sure the path is clear enough. It has a spiraling staircase that seems to go down to a lower level. There are probably a number of floors, below. "Well, Ah trust Skoll. So his sister cannae be all bad."

Percival has posed:
"We could do that, if you wanted. I just.." He scratches the back of his neck. "...the Agency doesn't actually pay me, and any munny I do make, I tend to put it in a secret fund for Mercade to eventually pay for a wedding, if he ever works up the courage to ask Avira to marry him." He'd grin sheepishly at her. "Not sure how much I could contribute, but I might be able to manage making rent."

He'd walk ahead of her as they descended, using the makeshift torch to illuminate the path downward. "I've got someone who might help us too, but she's probably not a great mover. She might be able to help us arrange the place though."

When she mentioned the plant monster, he'd turn to give her a dumbfounded look. "A plant monster that throws wind magic? You have one of those?" And then the subject of the vampire sours his expression a touch. "We captured her. Though Faruja wouldn't compromise on taking her to Mullonde. I've got to try and make my peace with her at least before they do the inevitable. I can't say that I'm fond of that idea..."

He'd peer around the room for a time, noting it, before he starts to lead them to an even lower level. "Nah, she's not so bad. Just easily offended I think. Had a hard life I suspect. Maybe she'll warm up to me in time."

Zia has posed:
"So yer already plannin te be the best man are ye?" Zia chuckles at the thought. She's never really seen a human wedding, not outside of television anyways. The idea seems a little strange to her, and not at all the same as her own sort of customs. "Ah think ye'd look a bit silly in a penguin suit if ye ask me. Or would ye go in full platemail with the whole iron codpiece thing 'n everythin?" Clearly, she is going to taunt him about this idea, and find every bit of humor she can in it.

"Seriously, though. Maybe ye should let the lovebirds get te know each other a bit before ye plan out their lives together." With a roll of her eyes, Zia starts her way down the stairs, now that she can see the way. "Tha is, if ye havenae named their grandchildren yet." Her talons click comfortably on the stone. It feels like a place that could be home. At least, it was similar enough to the ruins she used to live in as a child, or the castle that she prowled through during her time with Valen.

The next level down appears to be just what Percival ordered: A kitchen. The pipes and stove are rusted, but at least the cabinets seem in fair shape. It seems empty, if not for the layer of dust. "Hey, we found yer kitchen." Zia notes, like someone going through a house with a realtor, walking in and grabbing one of the pans off of a hook, twirling it in hand. The pan looks to be more rust than metal.

"Mmm. Aye. It's tha blasted collar the Gaudium Lords got on the werewolf. Need te be rid of it. O'course, the only way there seems te be te do tha is to nicely convince a servant of evil to remove it, or te kill her." This last part is added on as an off-hand comment. Like someone might say 'Oh we need some milk'. Sweet and innocent, Zia is not, but she does value life. Then again, she values the life of her /friends/ more than she values the life of any strange evil plant woman.

"Ah'd offer te come wi' ye lad, but Ah dinnae care for the 'Holy City' much. Ye should watch yerself if yer plannin on goin. We look a wee bit like demons te them, and the last thing Ah want is te see another of m'friends or family strung up for lookin the part." She aims the pan at him, and then hooks it back up onto the ceiling.

Percival has posed:
"Nah. Mercade is usually annoyed with my meddling. The best man would probably be Isaac, or Will."

He'd chuckle at her statement about wearing a tuxedo versus armor. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been in a penguin suit. I went to New Orleans during Mardi Gras not long ago. The Tuxedo got tore to pieces by a giant bayou Crocodile though. And it /was/ silly, thank you very much. But it allowed me to fit in during the roaring 20's, with a mask. Made it seem like it was some sort of costume to them."

A short pause, his tone being entirely teasing. "What, you think they wouldn't have time? Given my current rate of adding munny to that jar, they wouldn't be able to afford it for another twenty years, at least. And their grandson will be named Archibald, I'll have you know."

He'd look a little more excited as he saw the kitchen, despite its current state as he walked over to the stove, lifting the hatches to take a look. "Its serviceable. You won't be having to eat out of dumpsters, while I'm around at least. Don't think I've cooked for you yet."

He'd glance over his shoulder when she spoke of Skoll's situation. "I haven't really heard much of the Gaudium Lords, other than their effect on that overgrown forest we were in recently, but if you need any help dealing with them, you need only ask. I don't know Skoll very well, but he certainly seems like the right sort. Any friend of yours is one of mine, as the old saying goes."

He'd scratch the back of his neck yet again, sheepishly. "I don't think I'll be able to go back, Zia. While they treated me well enough as Faruja's guest last time well.. ...while I was there, a Gargoyle named Demona stole some holy relics of theirs. And I kind of..." He looked slightly crestfallen. "..lost it, and beat her to within an inch of her life. Only to discover that she can't die. And then I let her go, as I couldn't stomach thinking of one of our kind tortured endlessly by the inquisitors. I think Faruja is going to be rather upset with me over it."

Zia has posed:
"Och aye, lad. Twenty years of ye pokin at em. It's nae wonder it took the poor lad so long te say anythin. Remind me nae te talk te ye aboot m'love life." That's all she needs. The prospect of a werewolf who might have a fondness for her is odd enough, but trying to figure out what she feels about it all - that's just downright confusing. Isn't she supposed to like, find some handsome gargoyle and make eggs or something? Then why is it that the person tugging her heartstrings isn't even her own /kind/. Blarg.

Zia keeps this all to herself, although maybe there's a hint of it on her features. Afterall, she does tend to wear her heart on her sleeve, if she had sleeves. "Ah still cannae imagine ye all dolled up. Then again, Ah cannae really imagine m'self in a dress like tha either. Closest was tha maid outfit tha the Shard Seekers got us all te wear. I swear I was afraid of showin m'skivvies te everyone anytime m'tail moved the wrong way." There's probably photos out there somewhere. She might have even made the 'calendar', who knows.

The pale gargoyle isn't as enthusiastic about the kitchen, if only because she hasn't a clue how to actually cook. Everything she's ever eaten has been scavenged and cold, so sandwiches are about the extent of what she's been able to manage. "Cannae say ye have. Wouldnae mind it, certainly enough. Mostly, Ah live off of leftover bacon 'n sandwiches." It's a joke, or at least it probably is.

"Skoll is a ball of mystery wrapped in a coating of nobility 'n bacon." This seems the best way that she can describe him, and then she shrugs. "Ye'd probably like 'im, Ah'd guess. Figure ye'll meet 'im sooner or later." She doesn't really know what to say about his outburst, or beating another gargoyle, but the whole immortality thing has her shaking her head. "Sorcery." She whispers ominiously. As if she didn't have books of spells.

Hrming to herself, she makes for the next floor, trusting that the stairs are sturdy enough to have held over time.

Percival has posed:
"You can talk to me about it. I promise that I won't even meddle. After all, if we're going to be living together, then I'd best be a model roommate. I'll listen, but not give advice on that subject because... well. I don't have any experience to draw from." He'd smile at her, but say little else. After all, it was true, his love life had been eternally non-existent. And he didn't know enough about her love life, other than some of the candidates for her hand, and a few other possibilities. He was having the same problem, as those that he was attracted to either were not of his own kind, or in the case of Demona, who was of their kind, had such polarizingly opposite views that it could have never worked out.

He actually fielded a chuckle. "A maid outfit? I had heard of that, but I thought it was a rumor. How did they manage to get you to wear that? Anyhow.. I'm not saying I was /fond/ of wearing it, though it was interesting. You know our kind, most of us don't care about style, or fashion like the humans do. So even if I tease you about you wearing a dress, I'm thinking that you look more beautiful just as your own self anyhow."

He'd give her a wry grin. "My, my. I'm thinking that you just haven't /lived/ yet then. I'll have to start cooking a decent meal for you and any company we might have every night."

And then she describes Skoll as a mystery wrapped in a coating of nobility and bacon, and he laughs. "I get the impression that the boy likes bacon, I'll be sure to make him some, the first time he visits, but I have met him, just haven't gotten to know him that well since we're always in a fight for our lives a few moments /after/ I encounter him." And then the comment on /sorcery/. "...I'm not sure what sort of spells she's under. She's linked to a human. They can only die if they slay each other. She's over a thousand years old, and the human she's linked to is the historical King Macbeth of Scotland."

He'd lead her on to the next floor, holding the torch aloft as they went.

Zia has posed:
The prospect of trying to put her current wealth of mixed-up feelings into words is not a pleasant one, especially with Percival's history of playing matchmaker. The white gargoyle just looks at him, head tilted, brow raised, "Uh huh." She doesn't quite believe him. "Ah'll think aboot it." After all this time, there's still a part of her that tends to protect herself, even when others might be able to help. Walls take time to come down, and some things she's still working on.

His chuckle has her biting her lower lip, looking slightly embarassed as she steps down the stairs. "Everyone was wearin the blasted things. The boy leader, 'n all the VALKYRI lasses. By the egg, even tha weirdo who always shouts about himself was wearin it." She's probably referring to Gilgamesh. With a shrug of her shoulders, Zia tries to pass off the whole affair as nothing at all. "It'was for a good acuse. Raised money for tha relief group, Hearts Intertwined."

There are two things noticable about the next floor as they come down. One is that it must have been additional sleeping or storage space, but that it's clearly emptied out now. The other is that the stairs that lead down from here cut off abruptly just a few steps down from this last level. Zia is far more interested in that plunge into darkness than the empty room. It distracts her from thoughts of Skoll, but not enough to miss out on the comment about a near-immortal gargoyle.

"Strange sort of sorcery. Nae the sorta thing tha Ah have ever encountered, but then again, perhaps they ran afoul one of the fair folk. Their magic tends te be the sort tha changes things." Zia knew this first hand, after having found out the truth about Deidra's true identity. Still, she leans over the edge of the darkness, trying to get a view of how far down it goes.

Luckily, it's not too far. It seems as if the way down from here used to have a ladder, but it's since fallen to time and age and lies in pieces a ways below. From here, it's easy to see the the entrance, which has been boarded up and left abandoned. "Well, there's yer ground entrance if we could find a new ladder." She points out.

Percival has posed:
Well he could hardly blame her for not trusting him on that front. He'd pestered and annoyed Mercade and Avira, he'd pushed Sora and Imi into a date. Avira knew why he did it, and forgave him. The others however remained at odds with him over it. It wasn't really all that difficult to understand his reasons though if you knew anything about him. He didn't want anyone to be alone, like him. When people were hesitant to show their feelings for someone else, he tended to see himself in them. He didn't want anyone else to lose an oppurtunity, with life being so very short. With Zia.. He could perhaps put that aside, since she knew him better than most. Even so, it wasn't necessarily a terrible idea on her part to conceal her feelings. So when she tells him she'd think about it, he merely offers to her a wan smile, not voicing his thoughts aloud. Maybe she'd come around in time.

As he listens to her discuss the /maid/ event, he couldn't help but grin at the thought of her in a maid outfit. Not because of any sort of lecherous thoughts on his part. He just /couldn't/ imagine Zia in a maid's dress. And she was obviously embarassed about it, so he decided to focus on the positives of the event. "That's very generous of you."

As they descended into the next floor, he'd walk over to the abruptly broken off staircase, illuminating the way. He'd tilt his head, as he regarded what lay below.

He nods his head. "Its possible. I met with her after the fact, she.. ..she wanted to know how my clan was founded. So I told her. It wasn't a happy tale for her, I'm afraid. We've promised to meet again but.. I don't know. We're such opposites, in so many ways. And she's so full of hatred. I don't want to give up on her but I'm not sure she'll allow me to even try to help her."

He'd peer at the boarded up entrance. "I think I can manage that. We'll need it, after all. Good way to control who can get in here."

Zia has posed:
"Less aboot generocity, more aboot peer pressure." Zia shrugs her shoulders, leaning back from the darkness to survey the room next to them. Other than dust and a few moldering looking pieces of furnature, it's pretty sparce. This place must have been cleared out long ago, perhaps when the city walls expanded further South away from this stretch of sprawling housing. "When even the boys were wearin skirts, it was a little hard te nae go along wi' it. Ye shoulda seen Skoll 'n Faruja. Ah think there's still people who think their alter egos are hopelessly in love."

As silly as it sounds, there were multiple pictures of a stumbling 'Fara' in the arms of 'Silva' and there were more than a few people who were wishing for their star-crossed love to go from the Yuri realm into the Yaoi. Luckily, Zia isn't one of them, and she rolls her eyes at the thought.

More information about that other gargoyle has Zia looking thoughtful as she walks over to flump into a dusty chair. It's comfortable enough, perhaps even salvagable, if one were to be able to get most of the filth off of it. Every gargoyle lair needs a good recliner. "Sounds like m'aunt. Probably woulda gotten along, those two." She props her head on her hand, the room lit mostly by the torch and a single streetlight burning somewhere near one of the windows.

"So, wha do ye think? Would probably make a decent lair for our evil nefarious purposes." She suggests, drumming her fingers together in a mockery of some villian.

Percival has posed:
The russet-skinned Gargoyle literally stopped in his tracks, trying to imagine a female Faruja in love with a female Skoll. It truly was too strange a thought to contemplate, as a shudder went right through his wings. "Right, now I'm suddenly glad we're moving out, if that's what your friends tend to pressure you into doing for fun." His voice was teasing, as for the most part he enjoyed the company of her friends. "Must have felt a touch like home. If home were a strange amalgamation of France and Scotland at least."

Percival was a closet anime fan, as Leida had swiftly discovered. But even his mind didn't go that far either. The thought really didn't do /anything/ for him.

Percival would walk over to the recliner slowly, placing the back of his hand against it, and wiping away a touch of dust. Every Gargoyle lair /did/ need a good recliner. Its known as Hudson's law. "Really? Your aunt wasn't a fan of humans either, I take it?"

His gaze swept the room once more, peering at the areas illuminated by streetlight. "It'll take some time, but with Skoll and Maira helping us I imagine we can have the place up and running within a week. Mayhaps two. Might have to wire the place up. Like you said, you're a modern gargoyle."

Zia has posed:
"They're a weird sort, the Shard Seekers." Zia affirms with a nod of her head. "Ah'll never claim te come close te understandin them." Their antics were strange enough, but the relationships between the major players were confusing enough to need a diagram. Luckily, she's never been swayed by whatever force seems to attract most of the other females of the group to revolve around Reize. "But they're nae bad people. Most of 'em anyways." There's always that dragon girl. Hrm.

"Ye know, nae everyone in Sco'land wears kilts, right?" Raising an eyebrow, she eyes him warily. "B'sides, Ah've never seen a gargoyle runnin around in one. As for France, never been." She shrugs. Percival and his clan were a lot closer to France than she'd ever been. Maybe there were French gargoyles for all she knew, with snooty accents and curly mustaches. That's a strange thought.

Zia stops doing her impression of a megalomaniac without a white cat to pet and looks up. "Ah think she ran afoul of the humans when she and m'mum were young. Ah cannae say Ah know the whole story. Mum never talked aboot it much." It was also a very long time ago. Her memories of her aunt are fleeting, and in the decades that have passed since then, they've gotten quite foggy. "Anyways, seems like this place will do well enough. Ah'll have te see aboot talkin te the humans, maybe findin out who owns the place."

She gets up from the recliner, dusting herself off. At the very least, they needed a vaccuum cleaner, badly. "Shouldhae be too much of a problem, Ah imagine. Ye take care of marshallin the troops, Ah'll take care of negotiations." Funny how a few months ago, she wouldn't have gone near humans, but after having lived on the streets as a squatter for most of her life, the chance to actually have a place to call her own? It's something she's willing to work for.

"Let's get goin. Before someone else decides te move in 'n steal the place out from under us." She's obviously joking, because Zia laughs, at least until she starts caughing, lifting the scarf to her nose again. "Blasted dust."

Percival has posed:
"Maybe not. I can't say I understand the Agency either. Or VALKYRI for that matter..." He'd look towards Zia, with a sheepish smile. "But I still think of them as friends, you know?" He didn't know the Shard Seekers overly well, other than herself, Leida, and Faruja. Then there was Priel, but he wasn't even going into /her/. As for Reize, he didn't quite understand what force attracted everyone to him as leader. His enthusiasm was infectious at times, but the only memories he had of him was a squirrel literally /driving/ the kid. "No. They're not."

He'd give her a teasing look. "Of course I know that. Its still an amusing thought. My clan came from Scotland too you know. If you trace it back far enough, then.." A short pause, did he really want to tell her? It wouldn't do any harm he guessed. "..then you can trace it back to the Wyvern clan, in Manhatten. It was founded as an offshoot by Demona, the Gargoyle I met recently, until.. well, she became paranoid and betrayed her human allies. We were wiped out as a result. Only had a few survivors. They became the founders of my clan." He'd shrug his wings off his shoulders as France came up. "I've never been either, though we used to dare each other to try to glide across the channel and back by nightfall. None of us ever actually did it. We were so young that we thought we'd get caught by the dawn midflight. I don't know if there are any clans, in France anymore. Though its said that there were some in Notre Dame about three centuries ago."

He'd give her an amused look as she stopped her impression. "Do you think Skoll would mind terribly, if I got you a cat for the place?" But then, the subject turned serious. "Ah. A common enough tale I suppose. If not for my clan's dealings, I imagine I'd be half as bitter as Demona myself. Didn't have much luck protecting humans before our world fell. They had a tendency to get frightened and shoot me in the back." Another self-depreciating smile. "I think it would still happen, if I showed myself in Manhatten, its why I haven't moved there with the Agency."

He'd keep the torch upraised, continuing to traipse about the room as he looked around for anything of use. "Maybe we can get it on the cheap. I hope so at least."

He'd nod, a vacuum cleaner, cleaning supplies, definitely a necessity. Also to figure out if the place was already wired, or needed wiring. Most likely the latter. "I'll get Maira on over here. She wants some time away from Traverse, she's getting harassed by a Dark Knight who's taken an interest in her. And... well. I'd sort of like to get her out of town before Garland attacks. He's planning to within the week if Avira doesn't find Morrighan and hand her over to him." Not exactly a happy subject, which is why getting this place was meant to take his mind off it. Still, Zia should know.

"Oh aye, such high demand for this place. It has premium dust... and rot." He's obviously teasing too, as he rather likes the place, he just realizes it was a disaster area that needed fixing.

Zia has posed:
"M'mum usedte say tha our clan split away from Wyvern before the humans built their castle. Tha they refused te serve the humans 'n went separate ways." She shrugs her shoulders slightly, not exactly certain about the story. For all she knows, there might be some distant shred of genetics between her and Percival, but with the communal way that most gargoyles raised their young, there wouldn't be any way of knowing. In any case, there were plenty of generations of between. "Nae really surprisin, though. We're both Sco'ish stock, so we're bound te come back te the same origins sooner or later."

She doesn't have much to say about the various groups, having tread the line between them before settling with the Shard Seekers. She had allies within VALKYRI, and many of those from her own world worked with the Twilight Detectives. It all melded together at points. "Sounds like more trouble." She hasn't met this 'Garland', but from the sound of it, he meant danger to some people she considered comrades. "Well, have her bring a sleeping back or somethin. Probably willnae wante crash on those rotten bunks."

The comment about a cat has her giving a laugh. "Ah wouldnae mind. Jus' make sure it's good with dogs. Otherwise, we're gointe have have a six foot werewolf chasin down a cat, 'n Ah dinnae think tha'll be good for our furniture." That said, she starts heading back up the stairs, not already trying to figure out how in the world she's going to manage to fit two years worth of hording human junk in here. Oh well, they'd have an interesting time trying to sort it out.

For now, it's time to find some friends to help clean, and for her to use her 'wiles' (aka her appearance as a demon and/or a bit of saved up munny) to rent the place.