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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 15, 2008 19:48:38 GMT -5
Zahra shrugged, managing to keep up with Jeun quite easily, even though she hadn't danced in ages. "I didn't mean that you should let your barrier down, Jeun. All I said was that your barrier is still up. Which means that your mind is substantial, even if your body isn't, and that is a good thing, is it not?"
She rolled her eyes at Jeun's folly. He was such a silly little boy. "Obviously your mind is just fine. And as for the literal spilling of the beans, I had hoped that you would understand that I meant it in a figurative fashion, Jeun."
And he had already mentioned that his body was stolen. His body was in one place, and yet he was in another. She didn't yet know what this meant, but she was sure that she could figure it out, or at least pry it from him. "And why I can touch you when you can't touch many other things is probably because I've touched your mind before. I don't know if I would ever want to touch it again, since it's awfully dingy, but I'm sure I could be convinced to if you really wanted to let me in. So how would we go about getting your body back so that we can tango for real?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 15, 2008 20:01:21 GMT -5
"Well, you would have to go to the warehouse, or wherever they're keeping it, and steal it back. Obviously. Really, we've been through this all before," Jeun told her, laughing as if this was supposed to be so obvious. He seemed to be under the impression that she understood the mechanics of Sphinxes. There was a good probability that he was confusing her with someone else or at least conversations with her with conversations that he'd had with other people.
"And obviously my mind is still somewhat substantial. Otherwise I wouldn't be here at all. I'd be off wherever my body is. Silly," he laughed again and sighed, spinning her. By the time she was all the way turned around, though he looked very serious and almost normal. However there was still that odd sandy feeling about him and his expression was just a fraction off, "No, you may not touch my mind. Ever. I've fallen for tricks before and have learned from past mistakes. Reaching into my mind will, if you attempt it, turn out to be a lethal experience. I do not advise it."
With this said Jeun returned to being very cheerful, "Anyways. This is just silly. I think all that I really need is a good sleep. But you know, that's impossible right now. So I'll just have to wait a bit and collect myself again. Literally," he said, laughing at his own little joke.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 15, 2008 20:23:15 GMT -5
Zahra shrugged, and nearly yawned a little bit. It came with being a cat on the inside, wanting to yawn quite a lot of the time. "I've been in there before," she said, and rolled her eyes. "It wasn't that awful. And I'm still here, aren't I? I hope so."
He was such an odd fish, and she managed to grimace at the thought (of a cat being a fish). "How do I know where they're keeping it though, Jeun? There's no way for me to know. The people who stole it all have mental barriers, I'm sure. I could get through them, most likely, but I might have to be in close contact with them to do that."
With a sigh, Zahra glanced up towards the ceiling. It was so tedious sometimes, being a moderately strong telepath. Sure, she could break down people's minds, but only when she was touching their skin. And sure, she could convince people on the radio to play the songs that she wanted to hear, but what use was that ever to anyone? It was only ever of use, apparently, when trying to nurse a sick sphinx back to apparent health.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 15, 2008 20:34:43 GMT -5
"Last time you were in there I was moderately sane," he said cheerfully, spinning her again and narrowly avoiding running himself into one of the shelves, "I doubt I have enough self control right now to disable all of the traps that are meant to keep nosy, psychopathic telepaths out of my head. Like last time this happened. It is surprising how long traps stay in place. Over a few centuries, at least."
He heaved a heavy sigh and rested his forehead on her shoulder and closing his eyes, "They're just waiting for me to snap," he said, though his voice was muffled both by Zahra and because he was talking to the floor, "Once I snap and vanish back to my body then I really do have to start doing what I say. Just like last time. Do you remember last time?"
Jeun paused and lifted his head to look at her again, taking a minute to remember who he was talking to, "No. Obviously you don't. That was back in the 14th century. We weren't in contact then, were we? That was Zasha." He giggled a little and shook his head, "How is it I always end up working with people who's names start with the letter 'z'? I think it's a curse. Or a blessing. Or a damn coincidence. Zasha didn't have a good a grasp on the physical plane as you though. Much harder to talk to."
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 15, 2008 22:49:04 GMT -5
"I'd imagine so," Zahra said, patting his back as the confused radio announcer decided to choose a nice, slow waltzing song. "And I'm actually very good at going through obstacle courses. The army would have hired me, but they were too boring. Always chanting inside their heads, telling themselves that they were going back to see their families. And I never did enjoy mustard gas."
She sighed: the world wars had been so tedious. She had spent much of the time in London, moving away from the thoughts of the bombers, and admiring the airplanes from afar. How mankind had grown had astounded her, even if it had been in a destructive sort of fashion.
"And how dare she have a name so similar to mine?" Zahra demanded, patting the side of Jeun's head. "There there, Jeun. We'll find your lifeless corpse before you snap into it. I'm sure of it. We've just got to discover who took your body. And since you won't let me into your mind, you should tell me who it was that did this. Perhaps you could slip a picture of one of them past your mental wall?"
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 15, 2008 23:09:34 GMT -5
"Don't feel too threatened. Zasha was, as far as I could tell, male," Jeun told her, and shook his head, smiling tiredly at his employee and then going over to the counter and sitting in his chair, reading under the counter and grabbing his jacket, which he pulled on. This was a good sign, as he had become aware of the fact that he was wearing a t-shirt which meant he was mostly back to normal. There were still those little signs that things were still just a hair off, but those were receding fast. Apparently these fits didn't last, or at the very least he was able to get control of himself this time.
"Now. First thing you should know is that you're not looking for a corpse. You're looking for a statue," he said, taking the cup of tea that he had been previously having trouble picking up and looking at it for a moment before putting it back on the counter and getting up again, vaulting himself over the counter, "Don't ask for an explanation on why it's my body. I don't want to explain. Second thing I'm not sure who is keeping my body- that's a lie. I do. However I'm not sure how much of me is in my body that they can, if they can, monitor so for all intents and purposes I have no idea who the boss is."
He sighed and touched her arm, bringing to mind the images of a few of the more important lackeys that he knew of as well as their names, "Goodness," he said, "Zarah I think that we should go to a gala. Don't you agree? Do they have Galas this time of year?" He grinned widely at her, and blinked rapidly for a moment before shaking his head, "Sorry about that. Anyways. About those shipments." He smiled pleasantly, in such a way that it was clearly a grimace, "You've got all of the information on them that you need, correct? Do you need anything else? A good weapon, perhaps?"
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 16, 2008 15:14:41 GMT -5
Zahra snorted. "Why would I be jealous of him?" she asked, rolling her eyes. It was one thing to know someone who has a name similar to yours (after all, don't names define us?), but it was another thing to feel threatened by that person. "He was obviously not as good as me, or he would still have been around."
She nodded matter-of-factly, and then listened to Jeun's intense talk about a statue, and not a corpse. "So then," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "They have telepaths. Which means that I need to make myself invisible in the way of thinking. I can do that: when I close my mind, it's as if it disappears. Of course, this telepath might be able to do that too ,so I suppose this'll be a tricky mission.
"And no, the Americans do not enjoy throwing Galas as much as I would like. You've got to be a part of a club to do that, and I haven't got the energy to do that sort of thing. It would require sleeping with several influential men, and while I might be coerced to do that sort of thing, I hardly think it's worth it to go to a dance."
On weapons, Zahra laughed. "Weapons," she said, shaking her head. "The only weapon I need is my mind. I can change into a cat if I really must, and it might take me a day or two to be able to infiltrate wherever they're holding your body. But I'll be able to do it without the use of slimy guns or swords, or whatever sorts of playthings humans use these days for mass destruction."
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 16, 2008 15:41:24 GMT -5
Jeun gave her a look which was halfway between amusement and exasperation and shook his head, "You misunderstand, modern weapons are boring. I don't keep any of those clunky things," he said, leaning on the desk, "I would advise you not to underestimate these people. You have to realize that they stole my body- which is something that has only once been done before and it took two lesser gods to accomplish."
He vaulted himself over the counter again and held up a hand in a gesture for her to wait a moment as he unlocked the door to the back room and went in. He came back a minute or two later with a bit of rolled up leather which he rolled out on the counter, revealing that it was not just a random piece of rather old leather. Fastened into the leather were very sharp, very deadly, and somewhat bloodstained claws made of a blue metal.
"They're from Hades," he said, taking one out of his fastenings and looking at it lovingly, "I won them from a shape shifter a long ways back. They change to fit the user no matter what form they're in." He sighed and put the claw down, shaking his head, "They're a personal favorite of mine and trust me, you will need them. So don't do any of that protesting and saying you won't need them. You will. "Zasha died of overconfidence. I'd rather if I didn't loose two assistants to the same end."
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 16, 2008 16:56:27 GMT -5
"I've got claws," Zahra said, grimacing at the sight of the blood. For a cat, Jeun wasn't a very good one. Cats knew to keep things clean, and apparently, Jeun did not. "Why do I need extra claws that'll just make me stand out when I'm a cat? They'll notice that I've got these blood-stained weapons, Jeun. Or they'll hear me thinking about them."
She did want to wear them though. They were still shiny, even though they weren't the neatest finger claws around. And they were blue, a gorgeous colour for metal. However, Jeun then decided to mention that she was his assistant.
"Look, Jeun," Zahra said, a scowl replacing her generally happy-esque expression. "I'm not just some assistant. I decided to work here because I got bored with the humdrum life that the rest of the humans live. I like books, and I don't usually mind you. But I'm not just some floozy of an assistant that's going to just die off. If I'm ready to die, Jeun, then I'll go ahead and throw myself into a battle. I'm not an idiot telepath who doesn't know that other telepaths exist, and are strong. I know I'm not the strongest because I've lived with myself for many, many years, Jeun. So don't you go underestimating me. "I'm only confident because I happen to be very good at what I do."
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 16, 2008 17:33:58 GMT -5
"I know that," Jeun said, giving an exasperated sigh, "Do you think I would have hired you if I didn't know that you are very good at what you do? I also know that these people are ruthless and manipulative and... awful. I would prefer that you go in prepared for the worst then go in just hoping for the best. I count myself as blessed to have you working for me, I assure you, and I'd rather not loose you because of something stupid like this. I use the term 'assistant' as just that, a term. I know you're not floozy, I wouldn't have hired you if you were. I just..."
He paused, looking at her for a long moment and then shaking his head, "Never mind. I'm tired," he said, heaving a heavy sigh and gathering up some of his things, including a crossword puzzle and a novel that they had recently received, "I'm going home. Can you close up the shop for me?" He buttoned up his jacket with one hand while he got his things in order, successfully missing the first button hole and then giving up on the whole affair after only doing up three of the buttons.
"Take the claws if you want. I'd advise it but this is your... thing," he made a motion with his hand to indicate the word thing as he walked over to one of the displaced shelves and dragging it back into place with one hand, putting back the other ones without much thought and getting the shop back into it's usual state of disarray.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Mar 19, 2008 2:07:46 GMT -5
Zahra rolled her eyes at Jeun, but waved him away. Of course she could close up the shop. "Yeah, Jeun, I'll do it," she muttered, and dug underneath the desk for her keys. "Go rest, Jeun," she said, watching him bustle about. "I'll fix up shop here. And I can always call for help. I've got several slaves waiting at my beck and call. They'll come help me with this if I ask just right."
She grinned, and then picked up the claws. "And if they mean that much to you, lion, I'll wear the damn claws. You'd just better hope that they don't make me stand out." It wasn't that she wouldn't stand out on her own: as an Egyptian cat in an alleyway, and an extremely well-fed and well-bred cat at that. She would stand out like a sore thumb. But perhaps she would be able to project her kitty mind about to muddle up their own human frequencies.
"And next time, Jeun, get a zip-up jacket when you think you're going to become semi-transparent," she said, shaking her head at his antics. Trying to button up his jacket when he could hardly solidify himself enough to touch the damn thing. Hah. This was why her brand of cats were superior to his.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Mar 19, 2008 11:33:31 GMT -5
Jeun looked down at his misbuttoned jacket, but didn't make any attempt to fix it, "I don't own any jackets with zippers," he said, recollecting his things- which had gotten scattered again when he had begun the now abandon attempt to put the store back in order. He leaned over the counter and grabbed up the phone, "They look to... modern. Call me old fashioned but I will always prefer buttons. They look far better in comparison with zippers." He gave the phone an odd, confused look, "How do you work the caller ID on this thing again? Ah." He hit a few buttons and grabbed a pen, writing down the number which had come up on the little screen and then dialing it. He listened to it ring for a while before it went to the answering machine, "Hello, Mr. Dixon. My name's Jeun Kazin, I own a Counsel Books in East Shawl. I recently received a call from this number from a woman named Imogene Braith. The reasons are not of consequence at the moment, but I would like to speak with you. If you could come by tomorrow around three, I would be much obliged."
He hung up the phone and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Ah, Zahra, if you could get back in contact with Ms. Braith and tell her to come by at some point tomorrow that would be very good. Preferably a good time before or after Mr. Dixon would be expected here." He picked up his things and walked to the door, unlocking it and pushing it open, holding it open by leaning against it, "Good..." he paused to look outside at the light- which was quickly dissipating, "Evening. Night. Good night, Zahra. Don't get yourself killed."
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