[Maaike]

((Awesome thread title thanks to Livvy!))

Quote

A tattered old poster proclaims "wanted" across its top. It also has a black and white sketch of a man with slitted eyes. "Wanted alive for multiple counts of armed robbery and murder. Should be considered highly dangerous, approach with caution," it warns in generic text.

A fresh poster has been tacked over an official guard wanted posted. It is a wanted poster itself, though clearly not one furnished by the town. All it says is "Wanted dead or alive for murdering my son." You've heard about this target before. He's a killer who's evaded the city guard for years, and is wanted on suspicion of murder in all of the portal cities.

• Employer: Senior Guard Tolker, Therian & Matthew Merin, Anyeli
  
• Starting Location: Nubia
  
• Objectives:
  
  • Locate Denny Michaels
    
  • Capture him alive, or kill him.
    
  • Bring Denny's body to Merin at his home in Nubia before taking him to the guard.
    
  • Turn him over to the Nubian Guard, still alive.

Maaike glanced at the sketch on the WANTED poster in her hand, frowning. His likeness to Ashton was uncanny and looking at it gave her the creeps, but she wasn't sure how much that had to do with the eyes and how much this guy really did look like her ex.

Well, she wasn't sure ex was the right word for what she'd done to him.

The artist wasn't that good to start with, so who knew if she was even searching for the right guy anyway, likeness or no likeness?

“So you're saying you've never seen this guy.”

“Right. No. I mean, he looks like any other 'Varian to me, you know?” And that was pretty much whatever everyone she'd approached so far had said: They all look the same to me. Especially in black and white, when it was almost impossible to see their only truly distinguishing feature - the colour of their eyes.

Maaike couldn't even blame them. The 'Vari all looked alike to her too, and more so since she started seeing her husband in every single one of them. Even the females had started taking on his characteristics, but she supposed that was her reward for killing him. The vlareon was still tormenting her.

“Sorry I can't help, aye?”

Maaike nodded but didn't glance at the man she'd been questioning, instead turning back to Cailean; the azani was wait impatiently on the street where she'd tethered him to a lamp post, Magda roosting on his saddle and keeping him in line with intermittent squawks. Maaike didn't know if Nubian winters were worse than Espur's or if today was just particularly bad, but the mistral didn't like being up in it and since Maaike wasn't even convinced Michaels was still in Nubia, there was no sense in risking the falcon's health.

“Another dead end,” she told the pair, clucking her tongue. She wouldn't normally have bothered with the tether, confident that Cailean was disciplined enough to stay still on his own, but Nubia was unfamiliar to him and the people here just as nosy as those back in Espur. The azani didn't appreciate the constant gawping. Neither did Maaike, for that matter, and she wouldn't even be here if not for Graeme's request. There were plenty of murdering vlareons back in Espur, after all, but he'd begged on behalf of an old friend who'd heard of her successes.

Maaike's heart wasn't hardened enough for her to say no so she'd keep up the questions the next street over. Eventually, someone had to know something.

[Aiona]

Denny Michaels, a man who had murdered everything from unsuspecting bypassers to people's children.

Such a person should not be allowed to live, Aiona thought. She stood leaning carelessly against the cold front wall of a building, gloved fingers pulling her long, light coat tighter around her to keep out the wind. Occasionally she would look up and glance up and down the street as though waiting for someone, although she only did so to check if anything interesting had happened.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just regular Nubian citizens and the biting winter air. Aiona hoped that snows and winds would slow Michaels down somehow, because she couldn't quite believe that the murderer was still lounging around Nubia. He would risk recognition if he had killed here before... unless he was especially clever at disguise. A point to consider.

Then why is it that no one knows who he is? she wondered, pondering deeply over what the criminal's next move could be. She had asked a good number of Nubians already to absolutely no avail. People could be so wonderfully unhelpful.

...I might need to find someone else first, then.

The parent of the murdered son who was mentioned on one of the wanted posters might know something. In light of her current stale circumstance, Aiona considered any information as a step forward. Furthermore, Nubians were more likely to know about local affairs possibly tied to Michaels.

Aiona moved, planning to be on her way when a nearby conversation suddenly caught her interest. The words spoken were so familiar that for an oddly lit moment, Aiona almost thought that the person was talking to her.

“Sorry I can't help, aye?”

She watched with curiosity as a woman with long brown hair dyed at the ends (very nice) turned away from a more or less random man to a pair of animal companions. Aiona did not recognize her and had not even heard most of the conversation, but the poster the woman held in her hand was a twin of her own, which was tucked carefully inside her coat. Oh, that was something.

Before she had even thought it over, a tiny smile touched the corners of her lips and Aiona approached the woman. "Excuse me!" she called, although not loud enough to attract unnecessary attention. "Are you searching for D. Michaels? I'm hunting for him right now. Perhaps we could share information?"

[Maaike]

Maaike didn't know anyone in Nubia so she assumed the woman was talking to someone else when she called out "Excuse me", and blotted out the rest by focusing on the task at hand. She needed to get Cailean over to the next street and park him somewhere, but some moron had blocked off the street with their cart and she didn't want to put the azani in the middle of that. He may be well enough trained to handle most situations, but he didn't like crowds.

Cailean's growl alerted her to the fact that someone was getting too close for his comfort. Maaike tensed and let go of the saddle strap she'd been adjusting, clucking her tongue at Magda to signal that, should whoever was approaching prove to be an assailant, the falcon was to take off and throw a gust of wind at them. The mistral switched her weight from one leg to the other and ruffled her feathers, twittering softly as Maaike glanced over her shoulder. She flinched visibly when she spotted the Aurumus.

Had to be a damned 'Vari, didn't it? Even females reminded her way too damned much of her husband.

“What did you say?” Maaike thought she'd heard vague reference to Michaels, and her fingers curled. One of her gloves, fingerless to give her better dexterity, had a hole in the palm where it had worn down under the stress of Maaike's active lifestyle, and she poked the tip of her middle finger into absently. She really needed to get some leather ones. “You know Michaels?” If she did, Maaike's job just got a whole lot easier.

[Aiona]

Good birdy. Aiona didn't take particular care to remain at a comfortable distance from the animals, but it was enough to ensure her own safety. Perhaps after spending so much time with Nykhtorarr, beasts as a whole didn't have much effect on her anymore. Not a wise habit, but...

She simply waited for the woman to take notice of her, because it was bound to happen when she stood so near. Aiona was nonetheless startled when the lady suddenly flinched. Confusion passing over her golden eyes for a moment, Aiona involuntarily took a step back like a child wary of a foreign object. The flinch hadn't been merely out of surprise. Furthermore, Aiona didn't think of herself as remotely spooky.

Her reaction quickly faded.

"Not in particular," she replied almost immediately after the woman's question, as though they had long been in conversation. "I saw his wanted poster. He has been in the news for a long time. What about you?"

It occurred to her that the woman may not have any useful information after all. Still, a game without sufficient players always got boring.

[Maaike]

Maaike was always wary about discussing her job with strangers - or even people she knew - and was even more so because of Aiona's eyes. She'd made an effort not to let the traumas of her life with Ashton turn into a phobia of the Dracovari in general, mostly because by the shape of his own pupils her son was shaping up to being one. That meant Maaike had to understand his other half and be able to at least pretend to get on with his other kin, but today for some reason her husband was haunting her particularly well.

She was also wary of hunters who gave away information, even something as innocuous as "yes, I'm also targetting that guy". Most of them were in it for the money and kept things very close to their chests, so Maaike wasn't sure how to react to this one. Get as much information as she could without giving her own away, she supposed.

Not that she had much to begin with, anyway. She'd start by trying to figure out how this woman was, so she offered vaguely, “Maaike,” and arched her slender eyebrows imperiously for a reply.

[Aiona]

Well, the woman didn't really answer her question. It was only natural, Aiona supposed, so oh well. Although, this woman seemed particularly more guarded than most people she had met. It was interesting. There also existed the possibility that Maaike was just as lost as her, but she was willing to take the time to confirm it.

"Aiona," she replied confidently, when Maaike told her her name. She glanced around and continued seriously, "I'm new to this area, but I don't intend to stay too long to get to know it. I don't think that predators like keeping themselves confined, you see. It leaves too much room to be cornered, right?"

She reached into her jacket and pulled out the wanted poster of Denny Michaels, the homemade one. It had been folded neatly along its vertical length. Aiona unfolded it and showed it to Maaike, even though the other lady had her own.

"Might you have spoken with Matthew Merin?"

[Maaike]

And just like that, the woman answered Maaike's silent, imperious demand. She was either very naive, or had some tricks up her sleeve.

Patting Cailean's tough hide to quieten him down when Aiona reached into her pocket for the wanted poster and set him off, Maaike glanced at it dismissively, then took a closer look. It wasn't he same has hers. That didn't mean much, since those things were handwritten, but with her second glance she realised it wasn't official. Hmm. Maaike'd been doing this job long enough to realise what that meant. She'd known this Michaels character was no good and that he was wanted for multiple counts of murder, but seeing a poster that was clearly put up by the family of one of his victims made her want to catch the vlareon all the more.

She hadn't been having much luck alone. Nubia was a big, bustling place for this guy to lose himself, if he was even still here. Once she and Cailean had his scent, they could track him relatively easily - but they had to find it first. Maybe she could use this girl then get her out of the way later; it wasn't that Maaike needed the money, but she didn't trust people well enough to have them at her back.

“We can cover more ground if we split up,” she offered, her hesitation barely noticeable but still there. She didn't want to admit this woman had information Maaike didn't, or that as soon as Aiona was out of sight she was headed right for Merin's place; she recognised the neighbourhood scribbled on that poster.

“These are useless.” She circled her finger in a short gesture meant to encompass the people on this particular street, although in truth it probably applied to the whole city. If anyone knew anything, no one was owning up to the knowledge, which meant either Michaels was incredibly dangerous and powerful or that he was part of some larger group that had the poorer neighbourhoods by the throat. Knowing that, she'd send Aiona after the rich but they'd probably be just as recalcitrant; most of them only cared that a bounty was captured if it meant they were safe.

“Try the next street over, I'll start on the docks.” It was a legitimate offer and Maaike would head there like she'd said since Michaels might have found work there or hopped on a ship, but only after she'd been to see this Merin guy.

((Maaike's not the best liar, especially when faced with an Aurumus, but I'll let you choose if you want to split up or stay together. If Aiona insists on sticking together, Maaike won't be able to argue without giving herself away, hehe.))

[Aiona]

She doesn't trust me, Aiona thought, although she didn't really expect anything else. She knew that Maaike felt guarded, willing to get away from her on the first chance possible. The Aurumus could just forget about it all and start working on her own like what Maaike wanted to do. But Aiona hated the idea of them getting into each other's way while the quest for Michaels progressed. So they might as well dance together.

“I can see the advantages of splitting up,” she conceded, “but perhaps we'd be more efficient if we stuck together? Since no one on these streets seems particularly useful.”

“That being said,” she continued, “I look forward to us meeting Merin together.”

Aiona adjusted her coat to the wind, with an air as though she was ready to follow should Maaike start going. She had paid close attention to the woman's expressions during the conversation, and she didn't feel like letting Maaike out of her sight that easily, now that she'd gotten involved.

[Maaike]

Hmph. Well, then, if she wanted to play it like that, it wasn't like Maaike could say anything. She didn't want to burn a potential resource out of churlishness. “Fine, then, let's go there now.” No sense in putting it off hoping the woman would get lost on the way.

So, as Maaike drew Cailean closer by the reins and gestured for Aiona to follow with her free hand, she tossed over her shoulder, “What'd you say your name was?” She hadn't forgotten, strictly speaking, but maybe this time she'd give her surname as well. That way, if she double-crossed Maaike at any point, she'd know who to go after.

---

It had been slow going, because Maaike didn't give up on asking passers-by for information about Michaels on the way to Merin's house. They didn't get much more than she'd already guessed: That he was bad news, and folk were too scared or apathetic to give them anything useful.

It was nearing sunset before they reached Merin's house, a dishevelled stone shack (there was really no other word for the poky, claustrophobic building) in probably the poorest neighbourhood on the outskirts of the city. Maaike's stomach turned. This guy clearly couldn't afford the bounty he'd offered, and had probably pawned anything and everything he owned just to get revenge on his son's murderer. She couldn't blame him. Anything ever happened to Sammy, she'd tear Elysia apart and sell her soul to get revenge, but she'd feel like a heartless hydra's head if she took his money.

Dammit.

“What do you want?” The voice was gravelly, and as the door burst open to reveal an equally dishevelled figure in raggedy clothes that were way too big for the body beneath, Maaike figured why. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked as if he hadn't eaten, slept or drank anything but booze in weeks. “What?” Even his wings were starting to moult.

“Bounty hunters,” she explained succinctly, glancing at Aiona and gesturing for her to show Merin the poster. “Need to ask you some questions.”

[Aiona]

“Aiona,” she stated for the second time, “of New Alexandria.”

Perhaps she should have asked Maaike for a bit more of personal information of her own, but Aiona really didn't care much. Whatever happened from here, it would be better from where she first started. Anyway, as they kept moving, she got a better feel of the overall atmosphere of the town. There was the same fear that she had detected before, but as Maaike interrogated each individual, she noticed just how deep the fear went, and in some cases even hatred and a desire to help anyone who would put the criminal up in chains for good. It was unfortunate then that no one wished to admit any vague association with Michaels. Perhaps they could force someone to talk, but before that: Merin.

As they reached Merin's poor shack of a home, Aiona took one look and immediately knew that very little reward was going to come out of this, at least from him. She couldn't hide a look of disgust, but beneath that, a significant amount of sorrow, too. Pitiful place, pitiful man, she thought.

“I believe this is what you made?” she asked, getting down to business. She showed him the wanted poster with an encouraging smile. “Your enemy is our enemy. Tell us everything you know about your son's murderer.”

As soon as he saw the poster, the man's face twisted into one of horrible rage. “That man!” He gave a hacking cough. “Killed my son, he did! Came one night and made a mess of everything! Blood everywhere - I'll never forgive 'im! And he - and he - killed my son, he did!”

He coughed again and staggered, like it was taking all his focus just to stand up, yet his eyes looked too intent to be drunk. Aiona wrinkled her nose. “Do you have any sort of proof, like something the killer might have left behind?”

[Maaike]

Maaike rather suspected that Merin's "information" would be a waste of time, brought out from the bottom of a bottle. He stank of the stuff -- and worse, enough that Maaike struggled to keep her hand from covering her mouth and nose.

Sometimes, she really wished she wasn't Therian.

Leaving "Aiona No Last Name" to ask the questions, since they were good enough questions for the moment to be asking, Maaike took the opportunity to slip past the distracted Merin for a look-see at his home. It was next to impossible to sniff out any traces now they were covered by Merin's filth, but it was always worth a try. And sure enough, when asked for evidence, Merin pointed with a trembling finger at a still-ruddy stain on the wood flooring.

Since Cailean wouldn't fit through the door, and was safely tied up anyway, Maaike did what she'd been putting off. With a quick word for Aiona to "Wait", she transformed into her wolf form and shook out champagne fur before putting her nose to the stain and inhaling.

After a few minutes sniffing around the shack, she was back in human form and brushing off her re-gloved hands. “We'll let you know if we find anything.” Tilting her head in the direction of the door as a gesture for Aiona No Last Name to follow, she stepped outside and waited for the slumped Merin -- sagging now the strength of his rage and grief had simmered down -- shut the door behind them and they were back by Cailean's side before she held up the blood-stained splinter she'd sneaked out.

“I picked up two distinct scents, neither of which belong to Merin. I doubt this will lead us to anything good, but his nose is better than mine and with any luck one of them belongs to Michaels.”

[Aiona]

As Maaike passed by to do some investigating of her own, Aiona maintained eye contact with Merin. Her question, sadly, didn't seem to make much of an impression on the man. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and shook his head. “Can't say the vlareon did,” he grunted, and looked down. “He was a smart one. Didn't leave nothin'. Just murdered my son! You should've seen his body, it--! Oh my poor son!”

“There, there,” Aiona murmured. She really was no good at comforting people. The only path now was ahead. “Is there anything else--”

That's when she noticed something odd. Merin had cast his eyes on the floor, trying to hide his tears, but he was also fumbling about his baggy pant pockets. Then she heard it -- the distinct clink of a chain.

“Sir, may I asked what you're carrying there?” the 'vari asked, curiousity peaked. He was definitely trying to hide something.

The man seemed hesitant. “Nothin--”

Now she was sure. “Remember that any information would be useful.”

“All right, all right!”

And so, Aiona would present her own finding to their little duo: a dull gray pocketwatch. She shrugged. “It belonged to his son. Most expensive thing he owned. Might have a scent on it, too. Has your creature got the track?”

[Maaike]

Letting Cailean sniff and snort at both items, Maaike reassessed the Dracovarian. Those slitted pupils unnerved her, but she clearly wasn't completely useless (and it just showed the difference between them: Maaike thought immediately of the physical evidence, sniffing out the blood, while this woman had noticed the emotional. Perhaps those differences could be useful), so for now she'd let the woman tag along.

Nose in the air, Cailean snorted and snuffled, and suddenly howled. “I'd say he does.” Passers-by startled, giving the azani a wide berth and hissing amongst themselves things like "what's a war beast doing on the street", but Maaike ignored the lot of them and hopped into the saddle. Since they couldn't travel quickly in the city anyway (she would have walked, but now he had the scent, Cailean would be hard to control from the ground), she also offered a hand to help the Aurumus up behind her.

The azani carried them north. As soon as they hit the main track out of Nubia, up the Espira River, Maaike grew concerned that Michaels had moved on, but as they neared an inn on the outskirts of the city, Cailean grew more and more restless. The source of the scent was close.

“I'll go out on a limb here and say he's in there.” Using her chin to gesture at the inn, since her hands were busy with the reins, Maaike drew the azani to a halt. They needed time to scope the place out, to make sure it wasn't some sort of den for murderers and thieves (there were limits on how many of those she could fend off at once), and formulate some sort of plan. Michaels had to be smart if he'd escaped justice this long, so going in there as straight-up hunters probably wasn't the best idea. “How's your acting?”