It begins with a door...

[alittlebitdodgy]

... a door you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago.  Backing out of it is a man, his attention completely taken up by the unknown person he's conversing with.

'Yes, well,' he clears his throat, 'a dead family is all well and good, but I think it's about time I called in that favour, my lady.  Needs must be met, clients to meet and all that.  So

Comments

[merc_jarlaxle]

*lounges against the wall, clad as usual in his eyeblindingly shiny attire*

Hallo there. *amused*

[alittlebitdodgy]

He turns at the sound of the voice, drawing himself up to full swaggering capacity at the presence of another.

'And who are you, my fine foppish friend? More importantly (for I am more important than you) where am I?'

[merc_jarlaxle]

*may be shorter then the Marquis, but is not impressed*

I am Jarlaxle, of Bregan D'aerthe. *bows dramatically* And importance is in the eye of the beholder, is it not?

As to where you are? You're in a mansion. *so helpful, isn't he?*

[alittlebitdodgy]

De Carabas bows in return, taking in the man's finery. He may have no taste in clothes, but the Marquis has to admit that Jarlaxle has the means to have no taste in clothes.

'A delight to meet you, sir.' He says, hedging his bets by being polite. However, he can't stop himself from saying, 'And it's a good thing you said eye, isn't it?' He sniggers, his gaze on Jarlaxle's eyepatch.

'So I'm in a mansion.' This is said more to himself than anyone around him. 'A mansion holds many possibilities, does it not?'

[sweariwontdie]

Armand is sitting on the floor of the main room awkwardly carving a stick into the shape of a bunny. At the marquis's unusual arrival, he jumps to his feet. "The lady will not hear you, for she isn't here." He's still holding the carving blade in one hand.

[alittlebitdodgy]

The Marquis raises an eyebrow at the bunny-carving but otherwise remains silent.

At the mention of the lady, however, he looks at the man with newfound respect. If this man knows of her, then surely he's of a worthier stock than de Carabas had originally judged. Then again, most everyone in London Below has heard of her.

He decides to play it safe.

'My dear sir,' he says, with a bow and a slightly ironic smile. 'The Marquis de Carabas at your service. If you would kindly inform me of the whereabouts of the said "here" and tell me why Lady Door... isn't.'

[sweariwontdie]

"She may have been at one time, but if you left her on the other side of that wall, she isn't here now." Armand puts his hands behind his back and bows. "I'm Armand St. Just. Welcome to the Mansion."

[alittlebitdodgy]

'Hmm. Wonderful.'

He figures the loss of Door isn't particularly cause for a meltdown, and he'll make his way in this strange place alone. Although the loss of a favour somewhat irked him.

It was then that his eyes alighted properly for the first time on Armand. Hey, the man had a saint in his name; he might be good for something.

'The Mansion, eh?' the Marquis says, his boots tapping on the floor as he saunters over to St. Just. 'You wouldn't be in the market for a favour,would you?'

[fightingblind]

Oh, Dear Someone, someone nearly as shiny as Jarlaxle. Thank goodness for sunglasses. Zaknafein nodded in the Marquis' general direction, covertly sizing him up.

[alittlebitdodgy]

The Marquis nods back, all charm and smiles. Still, he can't help but feel under scrutiny.

[fightingblind]

"Do you often walk through walls?" Zaknafein asked, his tone just this side of dry.

[alittlebitdodgy]

'Oftener than you would think,' he says, his tone equally as dry. He starts, faking amazement, 'Are you telling me this is unusual?'

[mancalledspade]

"Well that one's new." He exhales a jet of smoke, nonchalantly. "Most folks come in doors that were already here."

T: ...I love you.

[alittlebitdodgy]

Nonplussed by the smoke (when you live underground, you get used to things like smoke, lack of air and a general unpleasant dankness fairly quickly), de Carabas takes a look at the speaker and says casually, 'Where's the fun in that?'

He then extends his hand, opting for the less formal introduction with this less formal man, 'The Marquis de Carabas. And you are?'

T: *gigglesnort* Who can resist de Carabas?

[mancalledspade]

"A marquis? Hell, didn't even remember to wear a new tie." He takes de Carabas' hand, his own grip firm though he clearly isn't trying to impress.

"Sam Spade."

[alittlebitdodgy]

De Carabas smiles, in spite of himself. He likes this man's no nonsense approach. 'Then it's good to know,' he says, 'that this place isn't entirely filled with cuckoos, Mr. Spade.'

[emobard]

Daeron jumped slightly at someone coming out of the wall, of all places. He watched him yell at the wall, holding his lute just a little bit tighter at the sense of danger.

[alittlebitdodgy]

'Beautiful instrument you have there, sir,' the Marquis says. 'Do you play?'

He knows that a bard is a useful tool for publicity - at home he always had one in his employment, ready to spread tales of... of... well, of whatever falsehood he felt like spreading about himself at that moment.

[emobard]

'I do,' Daeron answered quietly, nodding to him. 'You are- new to this place, I take it?'

[alittlebitdodgy]

'Extemely,' he says honestly. 'Do you have any suggestions as to how to avoid a painful death in this place? I've already experienced one - I have no desire to go through it again.'