Three Not-So-Wise Men (Myles and Brenner)

[Franky]

Ash 4, 121

Franky handed over the bag of coins to the driver, "Thanks Fredbert, same time next week?" The Lysanrin driver nodded. Franky hopped down and began grabbing the sacks out of the back. Some of the sacks clinked, others sort of shuffled, and there were six in all. It had been a good week. The weeks just kept getting better, as the customer base grew and Franky was fine tuning his supply chain and processes.

Three sacks over each shoulder, Franky walked up the ornate steps and into the open doors of the Zaichaer Central Bank, as he did once a week. He passed by the eight guards and began heading in. Wait. Franky stopped, looking back. Eight? There were normally only four at the door. That was odd.

Shrugging, Franky continued over toward the same banker that always handled his accounts. As he went, he could see people up on the second floor speaking hastily in hushed tones, and there were extra guards up there as well. That didn't bode well. He reached the counter, smiling at the Druskai there, "Hello, Gil. How are you this afternoon?"

The man smiled at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. Franky. How many bags this week?"

Franky chuckled, "Six, business has been good." Franky set the bags down, grabbing the ledger he kept for the bank to check over, handing it to Gil, along with the deposit slip. "Alright, we'll get this counted and send the receipt to you as usual." Franky set the bags on the counter and Gil passed them back to the Grackles that worked in the counting rooms. "Thanks Gil."

Franky turned away. Then stopped, turning back. "Hey Gil, what's goin on?" He gestured with his eyes to the group of guards over his left shoulder on the second floor. The man smiled politely, "Nothing for you to worry about Mr. Franky, just some routine security checks." Franky nodded, feigning a worried look, "Is my account safe?" He knew it was.

Gil smiled, "Of course, Mr. Franky. All of our assets are protected with the highest security measures, and even if something happened, your money is insured."

Franky nodded. He knew all this already, it was explained when he had opened the account. "Thanks Gil."

Franky turned back and went to leave, and decided to just have a little fun with it. He returned back to Gil's counter, speaking in a hushed whisper, "It's just making me nervous with all these human guards here, ya know? I know the bank is good people, you work here. But those are..." He let it linger, but it was evident. Soldiers of Zaichaer. "If I need to get my money out, before something happens, I would like to do so now."

Gil dropped the smile, whispering, "Your money is safe and secure, Mr. Franky."

Franky smiled and stood straight, fixing his jacket. He caught what Gil was saying. "I hope you have a good day, Gil."

"You too, Mr. Franky."

Franky departed the bank without casting another look at the soldiers. Amazing. Someone had successfully robbed the bank? That would put a massive target on their back. A reckless, dangerous, ballsy person. Franky liked them already. He hoped they robbed some really rich human, maybe a government official. Really piss them off.

He was down the steps, his clean leather boots clipping along the marble quietly. It was warming up, so he pulled off his jacket, folding it over his arm and holding his hat in the same hand. He was in a clean button up and slacks, with suspenders. He looked up at the clock on the bank. "Some time to kill."

He looked down the street choosing to walk further along Willowby's instead of deeper into town or back toward the Knob. As he strolled along, one hand in his pocket, he stopped in front of a small shop. A smirk grew on his face, and he pushed into Lilliman's. It was a small shop and there seemed to only be one worker there. And she was busy gathering measurements from a human man in the back.

"Hello sir, please browse for now, I'll be with you soon."

Franky nodded, and began to slowly peruse through the wares. Business was doing well. Maybe it was time for a treat. Especially one from the nicer end of town.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"...And I happen to be of the mind that epaulettes are key, for these sorts of functions." Brenner concluded his thought as he concluded an appraising orbit of Myles, who stood on a small raised dais as the proprietress took his measurements. He regarded her next,

"He should look and feel like a conquering hero when he wears it." The Air Commander instructed, "Like some godless paladin whose only faith lies with the glorious State." He smiled crookedly because, if Myles was fortunate enough to ever don this garment, he would be just that. It might have seemed presumptuous... perhaps even ill-starred for a man to invest in an expensive, custom-designed suit the day before he embarked upon what might amount to a suicide mission, but Brenner saw it quite the opposite. To the Air Commander of House Dornkirk, it was a way of binding them to the world of the living. He made rather a tradition of it, in fact. Before every major tour of duty he like to commission a new suit with the first half of the payment up front, and the final half upon delivery. Brenner could not envision himself dying with outstanding debts- it was against his entire code of ethics, and thus far he hadn't. So, he'd upheld the tradition for the past seven odd years and it had yet to fail him.

He'd explained all this to Myles on their walk to the clothier's shoppe, but he remained mum on the matter now that they were within the walls of the establishment. After all, to mention that they might not survive to complete their payment in front of the merchant just seemed like poor capitalism.

As the young mistress Lilliman finished up with Myles' measurements, Brenner stalked over to the counter to regard the sketch she'd rendered of the suit he was commissioning for himself. His measurements had already been taken, and he was pleased to find that his intense training regimen in advance of the expedition had been paying dividends. He could tell he'd been bulking up a bit from the way his current wardrobe was tighter about the arms and shoulders of late, but it was nice to hear one's tailor comment upon the improvement.

The sound of Zafri's voice greeting a new patron drew Brenner's eyes from the sketch up toward the door, through which a hulking, atavistic creature entered- grey of skin and narrow of eye. It took a moment for Brenner to register, through his distaste, that it was some form of Goblinoid and clearly one of the larger breeds of the animal.

He cleared his throat and made his way back over to Myles and Zafri, who was just finishing up with her notes on his inseam. Smirking, he addressed Myles under his breath in Kathalan:

"There goes the neighbourhood."

[Myles Arnnett]

When Brenner had invited Myles along on a trip for new clothing he’d leaped at the chance. With the looming threat of the expedition hanging over the both of them it was a pleasant excursion and moment to try and pretend that they wouldn’t soon be plumbing the depths of some god forsaken chasm. He had always one to avoid tedious fittings and tailors comfortable usually with clothes that fit him rather than having them made to his fit. Still with Brenner as a pleasant distraction Myles bared through the fitting process suppression occasional mirth at the fancies of his well bred companion.

“If only the clothes literally made the man” Myles Lamented with a sarcastic smirk creeping across his lips. “That said, it is unwise to underestimate the value of as good first impression.” Twisting on the Dias Myles struck a pose hand on hip and chest puffed out like some famous general of yore addressing his men.

“I do think I could get used to I the idea of a fresh raiment waiting on my return. It is certainly is a wish to return in the same shape one left in.”

Stepping off the Dias to peer over Brenner’s shoulder at the sketches he was looking at Myles “hmmd” appreciatively at the seamstresses sketch work. “That does look like it would frame your shoulders nicely, that and the collar leaves room for a complementing cape. What are your thoughts on capes, have they exited they eyes of fashion?” Fingering a red cape with a golden broach shaped like a lions head he imagined himself wearing the thing but couldn’t tell if he was pulling it off, or if his inner child simply still wanted one. Turning back to Brenner as he heard him change his language Myles followed his eyes to the Goblin he was now observing. Nodding slightly he pondered the presence of the foreigner in the shop. Myles silently hoped he that they didn’t provoke any trouble but judging by the way the creature carried itself it wasn’t the sort to be overt in its machinations.

[Franky]

Franky thumbed slowly through the jackets that were hanging on the racks. He had seen the momentary glimpse in the man's eyes when he'd entered the premises, so he paid them no mind. After all, it was Zaichaer, one couldn't walk a hundred feet without finding a racist human. It seemed that when one lived in a military state that never went to war, everyone had plenty of time to worry on things that don't matter. Bored housewives and househusbands, the entire lot of them, who just feel the need to ruin other people's days with sharing their unsolicited opinions and comforted that their fellow rats share them.

He occasionally plucked out a jacket to look at the styling of it. He had no intention of buying off the rack, no, certainly not. He was splurging, and he was going to get a custom suit tailored for him. After all, he could see the upward trajectory of the success of his business. And having known more than enough greedy people in his life, he knew that with enough money, people would have to tolerate you, if never accept you. He wondered if any Hobgoblins lived over on the West Side.

Would any even dare if they had the means?

He kept his ears open as her perused, habit from his time in the service, but he never cast a glance in the direction of the other men. He probably already ruined their little date, best not stoke the fire further. But it was difficult. He heard the mention of the cape, and he had to make sure his back was fully turned to the pair to hide the slightest of smirks that was growing thereupon his face.

What was with some people and capes?

In the Zythura campaign, they had hung men by their capes, solely for wearing them. Many a times, his trackers were able to find people because their capes would snag on every branch on the forest. Capes were what the unprepared, garish boys-that-thought-themselves-men would wear. But maybe they were nobility, though he doubted it since they were shopping this close to the Knob. Surely there were other shops on West End. Shops that wouldn't occasionally sell to a non-human.

Focusing back on his task at hand, he held up one jacket, vertical grey pinstripes on black. It was a nice cut, had a bit of a tail but not too much. He'd keep it in mind. He was being thorough, he assumed he wouldn't be waited on until the shopkeeper was done with them, and he certainly wasn't going to strike up conversation on his own accord. Causing more offense could only be trouble for all involved, and he had no desire to get himself, or the innocent shopkeeper and her business, caught up in it.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Oh, don't be self-deprecating!" Brenner chided, albeit through a chuckle as he playfully batted Myles' arm with an open palm. "You'd be a sterling specimen of humanity, regardless of your state of dress..." He countered, as his gaze made a slow, lingering trail of Myles' form from head to toe.

"And, of course, you are quite right. Fashion can be a passing useful tool of expression." He said, stepping back and allowing himself a chortle at Myles' playful pose, before continuing: "A simple accessory might be serve as a subtle threat or as an act of political dissent." His eyes found their way to a rack of cinching belts across the room, "...Or they can just flatter your form in the eyes of some lady you fancy. Have any debutantes caught your eye as yet, Myles?" Brenner wondered aloud, as his attentions shifted from the rack of belts to the goblinoid guest. With a simple glance he checked in on the proprietress, who seemed to be taking the situation with at least the mask of unconcern, which told him he needn't take provocative action. He would remain vigilant all the same, should the shifty creature give in to the kleptomaniacal imperatives known to be inherent to its race.

"Oh, I commend a cape in the proper setting!" Brenner said, as Myles' words drew him to turn back toward his handsome companion- All whilst keeping the unprepossessing creature in his periphery, in case the need for action should arise.

"Nothing complements a stirring speech like the wind whipping ones cape behind him as he orates. Should we be successful in our work, you can count on me wearing a cape to the pursuant ticker-tape parade that celebrates our achievement." He grinned at the flight of fancy, envisioning himself trawling some grand boulevard astride a float waving to the masses with a crimson cape billowing behind him- Perhaps Myles standing at his side, with Stefan and Eitan flanking them.

[Franky]

The one gentleman was switching back and forth fluently between the Common tongue and another that Franky wasn't familiar with. A small grin grew on his face as he was now looking at trousers. It was a tactic he often used both back in the Imperium, and occasionally here, albeit typically with other goblins. Humans didn't often bother to learn the language, probably viewed it as beneath them. That was fine by Franky, it offered up the privacy the gentleman in the back was looking for. Maybe they weren't so terribly different after all, despite all desires to be.

A young woman walked in from the back and the shopkeeper helping the two men looked her way, "Lydia, can you help that gentleman up front?" The young human woman nodded, walking over with a polite, workplace smile. "Hello sir, welcome to Lilliman's. What is it you're looking for today, and how might I be able to help?" The young woman was polite and comfortable in Franky's presence. Likely a progressive by the Zaichaeri standards. Franky cast a soft smile her way, "Thank you, that would be much appreciated. I'm not terribly well versed in the art of tailored suits, but that is what I've come to purchase. Do you think you might be able to help an Imperial bumpkin such as myself?"

Lydia lit up bright, "Of course I can sir. Since you're not well swam in these waters, might I ask how much you're looking to spend? That way we can piece together exactly what you're looking for."

Franky smiled broadly at the lass, casting the briefest of a side eye at the man in the back, "I'd like to open an account here, I imagine I'll be buying plenty of wares here. So we don't need to haggle on price, you simply give me your best opinions, and I'll put my trust in them. In you."

There was a sparkle in Lydia's eyes, "Well then, how about we get you started on a more general, every day sort of suit? You'll want a few of those at the very least, as your bread and butter, and then we can discuss special occasion attire after that. Does that work for you Mister...?"

A large grin baring his pointed, Hobgoblin teeth, "Franky. You can just call me Franky. And yes, that works just fine for me, Lydia. Thank you."

She smiled brightly, "Well, lets find you some styles you enjoy and when the measuring dais is available, we'll get you sized up and get moving on this." She led Franky over back to the jackets, and began holding them up to his chest, "I'm comparing the suit colors to your skin tone in this light, see if we can't find just the perfect shades."

As she worked, Franky looked around, appreciating her helpful nature, "Yeah, this color is new to me, I've not had the best time finding flattering clothing to go with it."

Lydia stopped, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, "New?"

Franky chuckled, "An injury from my final tour. I'm a retired soldier from the Imperium. I used to be dark green. And have hair."

Lydia nodded, "Well I'm sorry you were injured. It must've been bad to do all that to you." She went quiet for a bit as she grabbed several more and held them up, tutting to herself. "But we'll make you look good. A new suit, a new man."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner continued to bond with Myles- or at least he tried to, as the pair of Zaichaeri humans went about their privileged lives and sifted through the wares offered. They were, the both of them, on the brink of something incredibly exciting. There was no telling whether they would succeed or even survive it, but some uncharacteristically superstitious part of the Air Commander wanted to believe that investing in a suit would be a point in their favour.

He was in no rush to quit the company of the handsome Arnnett youth, and perhaps he contrived a few excuses to linger longer than was really necessary. The shoppe wasn't so big or grand that it required the level of scrutiny they afforded, and thereafter Brenner would invite his companion to join him for a tipple at a nearby tavern. He considered The Godless Temple, but that wasn't a place to brook in daylight, nor one to which he'd blithely bring a novel acquaintance.

"I'm told there's a rather chic cocktail bar just down the way..." He noted as they made their way through the aisles toward the door. To the unprepossessing goblin thing, he cast a sidelong glance- Eyeing him up and down, but with a very different gaze from that which languidly perused the length of Myles' form with relative frequency. What was Zaichaer coming to, he wondered, with a slight shiver as they crossed the threshold onto the street without.

He straightened his jacket, and gestured to their left- Leading Myles toward the tavern with a fraternal hand at the small of his back.

"With any luck, the bar will have more seemly clientele than the tailor did, hm?" He chuckled and nudged Myles' shoulder with his own, as they sauntered off into the sunset.

[Chronicle]

Name: Franky

Knowledge:

► Show Spoiler

• Spycraft - Contact: Fredbert, the cart driver
• Spycraft - Contact: Gil, the banker
• Spycraft: Reading into the inflections of one's voice
• Spycraft - Contact: Lydia, of Lilliaman's
• Spycraft: Listening without drawing attention
• Bodybuilding: Carrying heavy bags of coins
• Tactics: Letting the experts make the decisions in their field
• Tactics: Not being bothered by details like cost

Name: Brenner

Knowledge:

► Show Spoiler

• Etiquette: Guiding one through the ins and outs of fashion
• Etiquette: How to utilize fashion in politics
• Spycraft: Swapping tongues while in undesirable company
• Politics: Supporting a cause through fashion
• Politics: Capes are truly a statement when utilized correctly
• Leadership: Sticking with tradition before an important event
• Leadership: Countering self-deprecation with uplifting humor
• Leadership: Leading a partner to a new venue for privacy

Points: 10
Magic: These points cannot be used for magic.


Injuries: Nothing to report!
Loot: Nothing lost, nothing gained!

Comment: Brenner in any thread is going to be a fun thread, especially when he gets to see another species that isn't human. Shame had to be dropped! Myles you've gained 8 xp and 6 lores to choose from this thread (for participation)

Welp, that's everything I'm sure! If you have any questions, or feel that something actually was missed; please do pm me so we can talk!