Jump to content


Friends Like These (Quiz 221)


  • This topic is locked This topic is locked
3 replies to this topic

#1 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 14 June 2011 - 10:42 PM

Galvena’s Festhall
Nizina City
9 Tarsakh, FY (Faerunian Year) 2256
2315 Hours, Local Standard


While places like The Vulgar Monkey catered to those who enjoyed poor lighting, loud music and watered down drinks, Galvena’s Festhall prided itself on its haute atmosphere and on the fact that it catered to a far more upscale clientele – the “wine and stinky cheese crowd” as Sime liked to call them. There wasn’t all that much separating them from The Monkey’s patrons – they enjoyed the same kinds of depravity, had just as much taste for it – they were just much more willing to put up with a two drink minimum on top of an already exorbitant cover charge to get in the door.

A door, Sime noticed, guarded by men with guns. In fact, just about every door in the place had men with guns standing by it. Nizina was a dangerous city. Brynnlaw was a dangerous planet. People tended to carry weapons as a matter of course, but it was still unusual to see so much firepower being brandished in such tight confines especially given that the place was a night club slash banquet hall, not a military barracks.

Not for the first time, was she relieved she hadn’t tried sneaking in through the skylights or some such. But now that she was safely inside the building, she wasn’t so sure that just strutting in the front door had been the smartest thing, either. Cold approaches were -never- easy.

She took a few minutes to get the lay of the land: find the exits, study the guards’ behavior, check out the patrons. It took her another minute or so after that to find Galvena. The woman was hard to miss – she was dolled up like a trashy holo actress, laden down with flashy jewels and her hair whipped up into an over-elaborate do. She’d bunkered down in the VIP lounge of course – it was an extra-large balcony overlooking the main floor – the only suitable parapet from which to survey her domain. Getting in would be difficult.

Difficult, but not impossible.

The stairs leading up to the lounge were flanked by two overgrown gorillas; she didn’t stand a chance of getting by them. But there -was- a weakness in security that she could exploit. Entrance to the VIP room was granted by invitation only, and a young, cheerful blonde receptionist seated near the stairs was handling the invitations. Laid out on a table in front of her were pre-printed ID badges. Guests would arrive, check in, be presented with a badge from the collection arrayed out on the table and then waved on past the guards.

“Excuse me, I don’t see my name on any of these,” Sime said to the blonde.

“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” said the receptionist, her tone pleasantly helpful. “Let me see your invitation, maybe I-“

Sime let out an indignant huff that blasted a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. “I didn’t bring it. I didn’t think I needed to. I mean, don’t you people keep -records?-“

“Well, it’s not that, ma’am, it’s just-“

“Just what, -dear?-“ she said, really twisting the knife on that “dear.” “I’ll have you know that I’ve been a faithful attendant to every one of Mistress Galvena’s events for years now. I’ve been one of her best clients, and I have never, I repeat, -never- had this much trouble with some -flunky- trying to stop me at the door.” She folded her hands into little irritated fists of rage and rested them on her hips.

“I… I could see if your name is on the guest list-“ The blonde stammered and reached for the portable computer terminal resting next to her on the table.

“I’ll tell you what: how about -I- look for it, since I’m not sure I trust you.” Sime spun the computer around and pulled it towards her, sliding it across the table and over one of the ID badges. She picked up the computer, using the action as cover to palm the badge. “Your system crashed.”

“What?!”

She flipped the computer back around showing a screen filled with utter gibberish. “Unbelievable. Never have I seen such incompetence. Never. -Fine.- I will go home and get my invitation. But don’t think this is -over,- young lady. You’d better believe I’ll have a word with Mistress Galvena about this ridiculousness.” She spun on her heel, and ducked into a crowd of three tall gentlemen who’d already retrieved their ID badges and were passing past the security guards.

She grinned at the one on the left and flashed him the little laminated card that said “Guest” in big, blue letters. “Hi.”

He barely glanced at it. “Go on through, Miss. Have a nice night.”

“Thanks, you too.”

-----

Like most of Brynnlaw’s stratified criminal elite, Galvena was a social butterfly. She surrounded herself with followers, hangers-on, lackeys, minions and other assorted sycophants, all of whom were more than happy to spout off exactly what she wanted to hear, whenever she wanted to hear it.

Sime wanted to just barge into the middle of the crowd and send the entire group packing, but she knew she needed to handle this with just a little more tact. Discretion would be the better part of not getting herself killed. So she lingered at the fringes of the crowd for a while, watching and waiting as Galvena’s admirers, one after another, made every attempt to sweet talk her, all of them clamoring for some kind of advantage in the cutthroat political game of Nizina underworld politics.

She waited for Galvena to tire of all the flattery. It took a long while – the woman’s ego was huge – but eventually the crowd surrounding her started to disperse, and that was when Sime made her move.

She slipped in effortlessly as the last of Galvena’s toadies drifted away. She had a drink in her hand and a smile on her lips as she took a chair directly across from the woman who managed the city’s most exclusive bordello. She demurely crossed her legs, adjusted the hem of her dress and offered her host the most gracious nod she could muster. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

Galvena had never seen her before, of course, and was understandably wary. As was the lean, sharp-faced man who hovered protectively nearby. Everything about him, from the cast of his features to the way he held himself, positively screamed “professional bodyguard.” “I do my best,” Galvena said, her voice cool and composed as always.

“Of course, I happen to think the décor in your main entrance hall is a touch dated, but then again, I didn’t come here to admire your wainscoting,” Sime said, a faint smirk forming on her lips.

The temperature in the room dropped by a degree or two, and the wiry man standing by Galvena’s side seemed to tense. She brushed a pair of fingertips very gently across his forearm, and he relaxed, but only a little. “Why -did- you come, then?” Her voice was calm – too much so, really. More stiff, than anything.

“Business, of course,” Sime replied with a shrug. “You throw a hell of a party, Galvena, but sometimes a girl needs something more than just a stiff drink and a little music.”

“We are always happy to provide…” She trailed off, memory searching for a name it wouldn’t be able to provide.

“Call me Clarice,” Sime chimed in.

“Yes, well, we are always happy to provide whatever… entertainment our guests may require, but for services of a more esoteric nature…” She gave a little half-shrug. “I normally leave negotiations of that sort to Vadek here. He handles most of our day to day operations.”

Sime’s little smirk turned into a full-on wicked grin. “Fair enough. So if I wanted to discuss kidnapping one of your escorts and taking her off of Brynnlaw, he would be the man to speak with, then?”

To their credit, they didn’t just shoot her right away, but Vadek certainly looked like he wished to. His hand started drifting towards the inside pocket of his suitjacket, and Sime began calculating just how long it would be until the gunfire started. She also wondered how long she’d need to pop open her tiny handbag and grab the holdout pistol she’d hidden away inside. Conclusion? Too long.

Not that it’d matter, of course. There was no way she was shooting her way out. She might – emphasis on the “might” – get the drop on Galvena and her bodyguard, but she wouldn’t get ten feet before the rest of the goons in the place would cut her down. So she shrugged, as casual as she could manage, and met the two frigid stares being leveled directly at her. “You’re wondering how I found out, of course. We have a mutual ‘friend.’” It was all she offered them by way of explanation.

There was a lot of silence afterwards – a lot of awkward, unnerving silence.

Galvena finally broke it. “What do you know about it?” The woman’s voice was cold. She was trying to make it seem like she didn’t care, but Sime had been in this business too long – she could tell that Galvena was genuinely interested in knowing the answer.

“Only that one of your freelancers ended up getting sweet on one of your girls. Decided he was going to take her and run.”

She wasn’t dead yet. Sime chose to take this as a good sign. Galvena was still interested in talking. Sime chose to take that as a better sign; so she pushed a little. “This isn’t common knowledge. Not yet. There’s still time to bury this. By burying -him.-“

“I already tried that.” Galvena waved a hand in frustration.

“Yes, I know. The assassin in the Vulgar Monkey. Shame about that. I remember when House Despana used to hire quality hitmen.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I had to run that joker off before he blew the whole thing, and of course Sanik was gone by the time I’d finished cleaning up the whole damn mess.”

Her statement had sparked a sudden and dangerous change in the other woman’s expression. There was a sharp cast to her features; one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose higher than the other. But Sime knew there was no point in trying to hide her involvement in that incident. Her only hope was to spin the events in her favor. “You didn’t want him dead. Not then, anyway, and certainly not there,” she said, trying for an amiable shrug. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. This was the really difficult part: if she didn’t sell this properly, she’d likely be dead before she even knew it. “Sanik dies in that bar, and every freelance infojockey in the sector knows it was you.”

Galvena stared coldly at her from above a set of steepled-together fingers. She was as still as a statue, one slender leg crossed over the other, and her elbows set firmly on the chair’s armrests. “Remind me again how that’s a problem?”

She flashed back a brittle smile. “Oh, it’s not. Not at first. Until all the eggheads decide that your nice little merchant of death reputation makes you too much of a risk to work for. And how far do you think you’re going to get without a competent data slicer helping you cook your books for you, hmm?” She could feel stares pinning her, could feel beads of chilling sweat breaking out down the line of her spine, but she forced herself to remain calm, to play the part. She took a sip of her drink; she even managed to make it look casual. “I did you a -favor,-“ she said, her voice holding just the right touch of “helpful” condescension, “and now I’m asking you for one. I need Sanik alive. At least for a little bit. And when I’m done with him? He’s all yours. See, the creds he planned to use to skip planet with that sweet little thing of his? He ripped off from me. Or should I say, he ripped off from a little slush fund I keep around for Ardulace. She’s going to want that money back.”

“I can only imagine.”

The little name-drop had been subtle enough, she hoped. She watched Galvena intently and as the conversation lulled for the space of a moment or two, she saw what she was looking for.

It wasn’t much of a tell – just a little bit of a narrowing of the eyes, a faint crinkling of the crows’ feet the elder woman tried so desperately to hide but hadn’t completely managed to rid herself of. She was… interested. After all, this was the very same Ardulace who was one of Galvena’s primary… investors. As the Matron Mother of House Despana, her house ran numerous other businesses in this sector of space – some legitimate, many less so. And with typical Drow paranoia, one hand of the organization never seemed to know what the other was doing. But that was neither here nor there. Galvena wasn’t stupid. Nor had she gotten to where she was without a healthy sense of ambition. She recognized opportunity when she saw it, and the plight of one Clarice Finley, mid-level money launderer could very well be such an opportunity.

The bait was good; Galvena was biting, but she hadn’t been caught just yet. Reeling her in would be delicate. “Look, I’m not sure how you managed to track him before, but maybe I can help with that. I come bearing gifts.” She very carefully reached into her clutch to retrieve the small data unit. “I managed to swipe this off Sanik back at the Vulgar Monkey. Wasn’t hard. Computer geeks like him’ll take any excuse to have a good looking woman touch on them a little. This gift though, comes with a string attached.” She shrugged and met Galvena’s questioning eyebrow-raise with a little smirk. “I know you have the girl. Don’t try and deny it. If she weren’t in your… ‘care,’ Sanik and his little Shmooples would’ve stowed away on the first freighter out of here. So it’s a safe bet you’ve got her stashed away somewhere.”

Galvena knew how to play the game. She said nothing, and her face didn’t budge an inch, but Sime wasn’t buying the innocent act. She waggled the little memory chip at the older woman once again. “Now what’s on here? Won’t get you to him all by itself, but it’ll probably help. Of course, I’m not stupid enough to just -give- it to you.” Sime smiled – all teeth. “I do that, and you’ll try and cut me out of the loop. So here’s what I propose: you let me talk to the little whore, I find out what she knows, and then I give you this. We look at it, -together,- and we go find our boy. Sound good?”

Galvena stared back at her, fingers still steepled together, mouth set into a thin line. Her nostrils flared slightly as she took in a slow and deep breath before she spoke. “And why should I do that? For all I know, there’s nothing on there but your mother’s braised bruaalki recipe.”

Sime spread her hands and gave a diplomatic little half-shrug. “Could be. But what harm does it do you to let me talk to the girl? You’ve gotten all the info you can out of her, anyway. Giving me a ten-minute conversation with her costs you nothing, which is pretty much what you’ve got now. Turn down my offer, and you’re out of leads. Accept, and there’s a chance we both might get what we want.”

A few tense moments came and went as Galvena considered her options, but then she nodded. Quick and sharp. She punctuated that nod with an amused little snort, too. “You play a dangerous game, young lady.”

Sime grinned. “Those are the best kind.”

“The girl isn’t here. I’ll have to arrange for her to be brought in.”

“You do that.” Sime reached into her handbag again, tucking the data unit back inside and withdrawing a small, flat token about the size of the end of her thumb. It flashed a series of letters and symbols when touched. She tossed it to Galvena. “Here. My marker. You give me a buzz when you’ve got the details all worked out. And cheer up. You just found out that some two-bit datajockey ran off with a whole pile of House Despana credits. I’ve just handed you a secret with the potential for some fairly good blackmail down the line. You should be happy.”

Galvena laughed. “Oh, you -do- understand me.”

-----

Donovan Apartments
Four Hours Later…

Covert operatives didn’t keep regular business hours. Sometimes the job required a little more than the usual nine to five workday. Sime was burning the midnight oil, and if she was going to be miserable and sleep deprived, she fully intended to have some company.

Sanik yawned, stretched, and then slumped back into his seat, so exhausted he barely had the strength to set down his cup of coffee. The beverage was strong, black and filled with half of the planet Harvest’s monthly sugar production, but it was still only just barely keeping him awake. “You think she’ll go for it?” he asked groggily.

“I dangled a nice bit of bait in front of her.”

“Me dead.”

“You alive. At least until she gets what she needs out of you. Then you dead.”

He snorted. “Great.”

“Bringing you in alive means she gets a chance to grill you for information. You’ll tell her all your naughty little secrets.”

“She can torture me all she wants, but there’s a -reason- why we never talk about that time with the thing and the guy and the place.”

“I know. But point is, if she hauls you in alive, she can interrogate you. She can get you to tell her where you stashed the money you stole from Clarice Finley, smuggler extraordinaire and ally of House Despana.” Sime twirled in her desk chair. It wasn’t as impressive a flourish as if she’d been on her feet, but she was tired, too, and getting up was too much work. “She gets that money back, turns it over to Ardulace, and suddenly she’s the new flavor of the month in Drow Ladies Home Journal. You better believe she’s interested in -that.-“

“Then why hasn’t she called yet?”

“Because she’s paranoid. Because she doesn’t trust me. And, well… obviously she shouldn’t.” Sime smiled wickedly. “Look at this from her side. She wants you for two reasons now. Because you pissed her off, and now because of that money you supposedly stole. Right now, she’s looking for a way to grab you and get the money while cutting “Clarice” out of the loop. That way she goes back to Ardulace with the creds and gets a nice pat on the head for all her trouble. She just wants a way to stab me in the back and get away with it. She just needs a little time to figure out the right angles.”

“I… I’m just worried about Claire.”

Sime nodded. She reached out to give him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “I know, but Galvena won’t touch her. Not yet. I know her type. I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but… Galvena’s the kind of woman who’ll want to take her time making your girl hurt. But in this case, that works in our favor. Because while she’s still busy looking for you? She won’t have time to deal with Claire. She’ll be safe for now. And I’ve already told Galvena that part of my price for helping is I get a chance to talk to Claire, to see what she knows. I’ll check on her.”

“Ok. Um… when you see her… tell her… tell her ‘azaleas.’”

“’Azal-‘ You have a safeword. That’s cute.” Sime chuckled and shook her head. “And mildly disturbing.” She grinned, then winked. “Mine’s bread basket, by the way.”

“That… that’s two words.”

“Exactly.”

#2 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 28 June 2011 - 03:05 AM

Sime let out an indignant huff that blasted a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. “I didn’t bring it. I didn’t think I needed to. I mean, don’t you people keep -records?-“

“Well, it’s not that, ma’am, it’s just-“

“Just what, -dear?-“ she said, really twisting the knife on that “dear.” “I’ll have you know that I’ve been a faithful attendant to every one of Mistress Galvena’s events for years now. I’ve been one of her best clients, and I have never, I repeat, -never- had this much trouble with some -flunky- trying to stop me at the door.” She folded her hands into little irritated fists of rage and rested them on her hips.

“I… I could see if your name is on the guest list-“ The blonde stammered and reached for the portable computer terminal resting next to her on the table.

“I’ll tell you what: how about -I- look for it, since I’m not sure I trust you.” Sime spun the computer around and pulled it towards her, sliding it across the table and over one of the ID badges. She picked up the computer, using the action as cover to palm the badge. “Your system crashed.”


Heh. Heh. Heh. :)

“Of course, I happen to think the décor in your main entrance hall is a touch dated, but then again, I didn’t come here to admire your wainscoting,” Sime said, a faint smirk forming on her lips.

The temperature in the room dropped by a degree or two, and the wiry man standing by Galvena’s side seemed to tense. She brushed a pair of fingertips very gently across his forearm, and he relaxed, but only a little. “Why -did- you come, then?” Her voice was calm – too much so, really. More stiff, than anything.

“Business, of course,” Sime replied with a shrug. “You throw a hell of a party, Galvena, but sometimes a girl needs something more than just a stiff drink and a little music.”

“We are always happy to provide…” She trailed off, memory searching for a name it wouldn’t be able to provide.

“Call me Clarice,” Sime chimed in.


Or Trouble. Trouble's a good name.

Sime’s little smirk turned into a full-on wicked grin. “Fair enough. So if I wanted to discuss kidnapping one of your escorts and taking her off of Brynnlaw, he would be the man to speak with, then?”

To their credit, they didn’t just shoot her right away, but Vadek certainly looked like he wished to. His hand started drifting towards the inside pocket of his suitjacket, and Sime began calculating just how long it would be until the gunfire started. She also wondered how long she’d need to pop open her tiny handbag and grab the holdout pistol she’d hidden away inside. Conclusion? Too long.

Not that it’d matter, of course. There was no way she was shooting her way out. She might – emphasis on the “might” – get the drop on Galvena and her bodyguard, but she wouldn’t get ten feet before the rest of the goons in the place would cut her down. So she shrugged, as casual as she could manage, and met the two frigid stares being leveled directly at her. “You’re wondering how I found out, of course. We have a mutual ‘friend.’” It was all she offered them by way of explanation.


How to make friends and influence people, no?

She wasn’t dead yet. Sime chose to take this as a good sign. Galvena was still interested in talking. Sime chose to take that as a better sign; so she pushed a little. “This isn’t common knowledge. Not yet. There’s still time to bury this. By burying -him.-“

“I already tried that.” Galvena waved a hand in frustration.

“Yes, I know. The assassin in the Vulgar Monkey. Shame about that. I remember when House Despana used to hire quality hitmen.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I had to run that joker off before he blew the whole thing, and of course Sanik was gone by the time I’d finished cleaning up the whole damn mess.”

Her statement had sparked a sudden and dangerous change in the other woman’s expression. There was a sharp cast to her features; one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose higher than the other. But Sime knew there was no point in trying to hide her involvement in that incident. Her only hope was to spin the events in her favor. “You didn’t want him dead. Not then, anyway, and certainly not there,” she said, trying for an amiable shrug. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. This was the really difficult part: if she didn’t sell this properly, she’d likely be dead before she even knew it. “Sanik dies in that bar, and every freelance infojockey in the sector knows it was you.”


Here's the line....

She flashed back a brittle smile. “Oh, it’s not. Not at first. Until all the eggheads decide that your nice little merchant of death reputation makes you too much of a risk to work for. And how far do you think you’re going to get without a competent data slicer helping you cook your books for you, hmm?” She could feel stares pinning her, could feel beads of chilling sweat breaking out down the line of her spine, but she forced herself to remain calm, to play the part. She took a sip of her drink; she even managed to make it look casual. “I did you a -favor,-“ she said, her voice holding just the right touch of “helpful” condescension, “and now I’m asking you for one. I need Sanik alive. At least for a little bit. And when I’m done with him? He’s all yours. See, the creds he planned to use to skip planet with that sweet little thing of his? He ripped off from me. Or should I say, he ripped off from a little slush fund I keep around for Ardulace. She’s going to want that money back.”

“I can only imagine.”

The little name-drop had been subtle enough, she hoped. She watched Galvena intently and as the conversation lulled for the space of a moment or two, she saw what she was looking for.

It wasn’t much of a tell – just a little bit of a narrowing of the eyes, a faint crinkling of the crows’ feet the elder woman tried so desperately to hide but hadn’t completely managed to rid herself of. She was… interested. After all, this was the very same Ardulace who was one of Galvena’s primary… investors. As the Matron Mother of House Despana, her house ran numerous other businesses in this sector of space – some legitimate, many less so. And with typical Drow paranoia, one hand of the organization never seemed to know what the other was doing. But that was neither here nor there. Galvena wasn’t stupid. Nor had she gotten to where she was without a healthy sense of ambition. She recognized opportunity when she saw it, and the plight of one Clarice Finley, mid-level money launderer could very well be such an opportunity.


SINKER. :D

Sime spread her hands and gave a diplomatic little half-shrug. “Could be. But what harm does it do you to let me talk to the girl? You’ve gotten all the info you can out of her, anyway. Giving me a ten-minute conversation with her costs you nothing, which is pretty much what you’ve got now. Turn down my offer, and you’re out of leads. Accept, and there’s a chance we both might get what we want.”

A few tense moments came and went as Galvena considered her options, but then she nodded. Quick and sharp. She punctuated that nod with an amused little snort, too. “You play a dangerous game, young lady.”

Sime grinned. “Those are the best kind.”


Sime: "She's right. Best coin in em."

Sanik yawned, stretched, and then slumped back into his seat, so exhausted he barely had the strength to set down his cup of coffee. The beverage was strong, black and filled with half of the planet Harvest’s monthly sugar production, but it was still only just barely keeping him awake. “You think she’ll go for it?” he asked groggily.

“I dangled a nice bit of bait in front of her.”

“Me dead.”

“You alive. At least until she gets what she needs out of you. Then you dead.”


An important difference. :D

“She can torture me all she wants, but there’s a -reason- why we never talk about that time with the thing and the guy and the place.”


Bran: "Don't want to know."

“I know. But point is, if she hauls you in alive, she can interrogate you. She can get you to tell her where you stashed the money you stole from Clarice Finley, smuggler extraordinaire and ally of House Despana.” Sime twirled in her desk chair. It wasn’t as impressive a flourish as if she’d been on her feet, but she was tired, too, and getting up was too much work. “She gets that money back, turns it over to Ardulace, and suddenly she’s the new flavor of the month in Drow Ladies Home Journal. You better believe she’s interested in -that.-“


Clarice. Finley.

Sime: "No. I'm SO not wearing a Hawaiian shirt. EVER."

Sime nodded. She reached out to give him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “I know, but Galvena won’t touch her. Not yet. I know her type. I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but… Galvena’s the kind of woman who’ll want to take her time making your girl hurt. But in this case, that works in our favor. Because while she’s still busy looking for you? She won’t have time to deal with Claire. She’ll be safe for now. And I’ve already told Galvena that part of my price for helping is I get a chance to talk to Claire, to see what she knows. I’ll check on her.”

“Ok. Um… when you see her… tell her… tell her ‘azaleas.’”


Well, no way anyone would ever mistake that one. :D

“’Azal-‘ You have a safeword. That’s cute.” Sime chuckled and shook her head. “And mildly disturbing.” She grinned, then winked. “Mine’s bread basket, by the way.”

“That… that’s two words.”

“Exactly.”


*SNICKER*

Love this by the way. MORE. NAUGH!!!

#3 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 29 June 2011 - 06:05 PM

Or Trouble. Trouble's a good name.


Yes, but it doesn't make for a good cover identity.

How to make friends and influence people, no?


The latter, yes. The former... maybe not so much.

An important difference.


Devil's in the details. Besides, there -might- be just enough time between the "him alive" and "him dead" phases for there to be a "sudden and miraculous reversal of fortunes." Maybe. Never know. Could happen.

Bran: "Don't want to know."


They'd never been to Belize.

(Ocean's 11 reference.) :)

Reuben: "Listen, guys, I still owe you from that time with the thing and the guy and the place, and I'll never forget it."

Danny: "That was our pleasure."

Rusty: "I'd never been to Belize."

Love this by the way. MORE. NAUGH!!!


Still working on it. I've... been distracted by... ahem... other projects, but you know all about that. (Wink wink nudge nudge)

#4 Guest_Blue-Inked_Frost_*

Posted 05 July 2011 - 12:54 AM

I'm enjoying this caper fic. :) I liked the dialogue with Galvena and the scamming process; Galvena felt perhaps a touch too easily suckered, but I really enjoyed watching Sime work.




0 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users

Skin Designed By Evanescence at IBSkin.com