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[The Brucolac isn't in his rooms, for those who know what they look like. Rather, the locket shows him cross-legged on the floor of an inn room in Mair, with a ledger on his lap, a teacup in his hand (Alice will recognise it) and a pile of coins set nice and obviously by his knee. The king was in his counting house, etc.]

Who amongst you can restore sight to one blinded?

I'm willing to pay, provided your service is prompt and effective. [Scratching thoughtfully at his neat-trimmed stubble, evidently assessing some mental diary of appointments. He's got to fit in visiting fire-nymphs, hearing Alyosha lecture at the Barrel, potentially roughing up some brothel-owners, selling drugs and, oh, and somehow finding Morla's favour. His mouth turns down with faint, irritable displeasure at the chaos of it all.] Preferably before the end of the month.

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[it's been a while since ben has actively sought out someone to help, but blindness in this world could prove to be a great weakness, and he doesn't want anyone being hurt because of that handicap.]

I don't need no money, but I can help.

[Aren't you just peaches and cream. The Brucolac looks tense and troubled about that offer for a moment; he prefers to pay, trusting transaction more than good will, but money is suddenly a very valuable resource. He can't afford to turn down the kindness of strangers.]

If you're sure.

It's a magical ailment. A woman of my acquaintance, she took a sorcerous fever two years ago, and it took her eyesight.

[There's a question embedded there: can you still help?]

It don't matter how it happened.

[he's sure he can overcome whatever did it to her in the first place. it might take a little more than what he's expecting to be taken, but it can be done.]

Where is she?

Edited 2014-12-27 15:46 (UTC)

Mair. She's in Mair.

[There's a slight sag to the Brucolac's shoulders now, just the barest hint of relief.]

[he looks down for a moment, pulling his worn map from his pocket to take a look at it. there's silence from his end all the while as he traces the trek from caer glaem to mair. he looks back up abruptly, frowning.]

That's far. No ring in between, either. I got a ceffyl dwr but it ain't gonna get me there in a couple days.

[No ring? Ah. Seelie. Well, then...]

I can bring her to the Station. There's a ring there. Would that prove easier?

Yeah, but I'll meet you further out. Don't mind walkin' a bit, but she's gotta be away from that place.

[he's not going any further into that and if the brucolac has a problem with it then it's going to be a problem.]

Why's that?

[crap.]

Just how it is. You can't be there, either.

[Impatiently:]

Why not.

[he's not succumbing to that. in fact, there's a growing frustration in his voice,]

I ain't gonna hurt her, but you can't be there. No one can.

Very fucking reassuring. Look. [His lips curl away from his teeth in something that has the rough shape of a smile and none of its feeling.]

I know very well that you won't hurt her. No one wants the resultant mess. But for her damnable sake, I won't throw her to a strange Seelie shardbearer and walk off without even an explanation to offer her.

Somethin's gonna happen there. I promise- I promise that whatever happens ain't gonna touch her. But it might touch you.

[he doesn't know the brucolac's abilities, doesn't know a thing about him, but he doesn't want someone getting close to death because of his own abilities, either. he doesn't know what's going to happen.]

There can be no side effects. [Sharply.] Her health is imperative.

[But at that, he has to relent, his tongue flicking from his mouth and lashing unhappily before it coils back behind his teeth. He breathes out slowly through his nose.]

This is for her to decide. I will put your terms before her. My name is the Brucolac; may I have yours to pass onto her?

She'll be fine.

[he relaxes somewhat, knowing the brucolac has given in for now.]

Ben Hawkins.

Ben Hawkins. Thank you.

[It's the next night by the time the Brucolac opens the feed again, now looking somewhat more settled and sure of what's about to happen.]

She says she'll take your help.

[Half daring to hope this might come off well. It shows in his voice, which is tinged with a relief he tries to keep down. He had expected this to be another increase in his debts; yet more gold or silver or blood owed.]

[he's grown a little nervous for what's to come, but he hides it well.]

Okay. I can start down there tonight.

[the sooner the better, he figures.]

No need. Meet us out by the Station two nights from now; we'll be there by the sixth hour. And I'll take your terms.

[His eyes flash, look cold; he lingers, staring for a few moments, before he cuts the feed.]

Edited 2014-12-28 15:46 (UTC)

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