A Request.

[thornofcamorr]

Here's a Locke, looking a little nauseous, sitting sprawled in the main room next to a new posting on the bulletin board.

If someone could give Locke Lamora a rapier to borrow for one evening, it would be greatly appreciated. Find the gentleman in question nearby.

Beware, anyone who speaks to him - Locke can currently only tell the truth - and is

Comments

[hadley_bright]

Hadley-Bright is an upper class English gentleman. A rapier seems like the sort of thing he'd have, though we have no idea why.

'Whatever do you need a rapier for?'

[thornofcamorr]

Locke looks up, opens his mouth, and says rather abruptly, "So I have a marginally better chance of surviving a duel I got myself into."

[hadley_bright]

'Oh,' Hadley-Bright says, looking startled. 'Well-- well. I've a rapier, but... are you sure you want it?'

[thornofcamorr]

"Yes," says Locke miserably, "I'm afraid there's no way of backing out of it now." And that's honest.

[thornofcamorr]

Locke gives him a scathing and nasty look, scooting away from him. "You." And then adds, looking surprised at his own mouth, "Well, yes, I'm rather planning on it."

[thornofcamorr]

"Other than the fact that I'm almost passively suicidal I was bored, no." Flatly. "And because I haven't done anything dangerous and life-threatening in quite a while."

[tomboy_22]

... and unfortunately for him, Anita walks by, and finds him on the couch. She plops down.

"Hey, Tavrin!" She's actually in a superb mood, thanks to female hormonal cycles. "Why is it I always find you on this couch? Waitin' for me to take a nap?"

T: I.AM.SO.SORRY. It was impossible to resist.

[thornofcamorr]

He gives her a mildly reproachful look and opens his mouth to tell her that he was just sitting here and finds himself saying, "No, I'm sitting here hoping someone with some type of sword comes by so I don't die quite so quickly this evening."

[tomboy_22]

Oh.

She stares at him, then at the bulletin board, then at him again.

"Ok, what the fuck is going on? Tavrin Callas? Dying this evening? Locke Lamorra? Who's Locke, or Tavrin?"

Her mood is quite sobered up, and she's frowning.

[thornofcamorr]

Shit. Shitshitshit. He tries to keep his mouth shut, but it really doesn't work. "That's me." And shuts his mouth firmly before he can spill the rest, really.

"Tavrin's a name I use sometimes so it makes it harder for people to find me."

Godammit. That worked well.

[nots0darling]

Because her typist can't help herself, here's Jess again, still shiny and all, though she's looking at Locke with a concerned expression on her face.

"...A rapier?"

[thornofcamorr]

He looks up.

Oh. Goddammit. Another reason he shouldn't die this evening. "Yeah, that's about it." He swallows hard.

[nots0darling]

She awkwardly takes a seat next to him, her brow furrowed.

"Er. Why? Interest in the art of sword making?"

[thornofcamorr]

"Actually, I've been phenomenally stupid."

He winces. Damn honest apples.