Datura [Sinistrari] Silas [Squishy] --- Two dozen glass tumblers chimed, their pearly white contents shifting in rhythmic sways to a silent stroll. Past silken curtains of beads and jewels they were carried, from one elaborately painted wall of great oak to another, the tassled red lanterns overhead bathing everything in a warm, exotic light. Giggles sounded down the corridors. Lutes and flutes sung different songs from every room. And where feet once again found the rolls of lush carpet, be them bare, wrapped in sandals or clad in boots, more often than not they swayed under the influence of Romani’s finest. Here heavy wallets found their relief, paying for the ardent passions of the living: it was that sort of place. And with Nabooru so full of heavy labour and hard work, more than just one man commonly found his respite here: be him Hylian or even Goron. It was a needed paradise with the threat of Death Mountain looming over them. A snake pit of addiction which everyone loved. A charming smile curled Datura’s lips, their stark, voluptuous red shining brightly through the mask of her light veil. Golden eyes, narrowed with sly glee and framed with long eyelashes, often drifted from her path. A wink at that man and his drifting hands. A bashful giggle at another with an incredible physique. Every now and then a client would drift into the very corridor Datura strolled down, catching the sight of her swaying hips and the whiff of her Aroma Ring. But even if they too caught her eye they weren’t big enough prey to keep her satisfied. A far larger target – the largest in Nabooru – had just arrived and paid full price, with a tip, for the most finely furnished room in the establishment. The Gerudo’s heart was almost giddy with excitement. They had never asked for her entertainment, but she was certain they wouldn’t just turn her away with that many rupees to spare. She was much more than just pretty and she knew it. Pausing at the door, Datura took a brief moment to glance over her appearance. She softly tousled her thick red hair over one shoulder to reveal the nape of her neck. She fixed the lines of her jingling, gold jewellery to lie neatly on her chest. And, after a second thought, then decided to cleanly rip one of the many suggestively thin layers at her legs, tearing it all the way up to her hips in a glimmer of tanned skin. Perfect. She smiled at herself and knocked once on the door frame. “Drinks.” The Gerudo cooed, voice thick with an accent. With no further decorum needed, the dancer lightly brushed away the shimmering curtain and waded her way into the boisterous room: two dozen generous servings of Chateau Romani at her disposal.
Silas looked down form his perch, on a beam high above the gathering, hidden in the shadows. He was not planning on moving soon, wanting to observe his target first. Plus getting up here in the first place had been quite a hassle, as he had to dash and climb before anyone else got into the room. No, for now, he would simply watch the group, trying to uncover more information. A little while ago, his network had started to send a worrying series of messages. It seemed that one of Nabooru's more well-off merchants had been involved in some more... shady deals. Armour, weaponry and the like, send off to odd places in the middle of nowhere. The figures who had eventually emerged to claim the packages had not looked any more savoury. At this point, nothing was certain, but his masters had send the Sheikah out to investigate nonetheless. And so Silas found himself in his current position, watching over the party below. They had been here for a while now, the group turning rowdy. Some of them, who he guessed were either guards, soldiers or some sort of hired muscle had challenged eachother to an arm wrestling contest, while the others looked on and laughed or loudly commented. At the head of their table was a man with a square jaw and a whispy moustache under his nose, silently watching. Silas' true target. Loud cheers erupted when one of the men went down, arm crushing a glass in the process as his opponent raised his hands in celebration. Another called out for a round of drinks, the demand picked up and echoed by more and more members of the group, accompanied by the banging of fists on the tables. Apparently the demanding calls for drink had been heard, as not too much later a Gerudo with a platter of drinks sauntered into the room. A sweet, almost dizzying scent wafted up as he went around the company to serve. Silas shook his head, resisting the urge to sneeze. His legs were starting to cramp from crouching for so long. The men below toasted and threw back drinks. Perhaps it was a good thing they were all seated on stools or cushions, as the Sheikah doubted most of them would still be able to stand or walk in a straight line at this point. His eyes drifted back to the Gerudo, watching her navigate between the tables nimbly as a cat. Had she been here before? Silas' thoughts were rudely interrupted when the man at the head of the table slammed his glass and stood up, gesturing for silence.
“You all know why we’re here together, brothers.” The chief bellowed in a grizzly slur. Some of his drink swayed and toppled over the rim of his glass as he flung his arm to one side in a languidly dramatic motion. “AYE!” Cried one of his own. “TO CELEBRATE!!!” A raucous vocal applause assaulted Datura’s eardrums in reply as they hammered the floor and the table and each other: some a little more feisty than others with full on blows to the shoulders and to the back of the their heads, a display that widened the Gerudo’s eyes with surprised laughter. Perhaps any other woman would’ve swiftly regretted their entry: they were all quickly becoming far too intoxicated to be easily controlled. But it wasn’t just fear that fluttered in this Gerudo’s chest, but a sly, calculating delight with an edge of a thrill only danger could add. Not so secretly, she loved it. Her golden eyes flashed and then crinkled with a wide smile, making sure to spice her laugh with a charming bashfulness as one of the celebratory hands promptly smacked her behind. “Quite!” The chief replied with a merry – and almost accusatory – jab of his finger at the previous speaker. “Quite! Quite! But that’s not all, brothers!” “NOT ALL?!!” Roared a small handful in unison. It was almost like being in a theatre back at Castle Town. “NOT ALL!” He boomed on repeat with victorious laughter. “The day after tomorrow we shall launch our biggest exchange yet! We’ll be richer and richer and richer-!” “AND RIIIIIICHEEEEEERRRR!” Chests were thundered, glasses were thrown and some embraced each other in an abrupt outburst of joyful tears. With an elegant fold of her legs to one side and a voluptuous curl of her hips, Datura found her spot amongst all the mess right next to the biggest bag of rupees in the room: the chief, of course. He still stood, unfortunately restricting the amount of intimacy she could initiate currently, but that was no massive obstacle. With a sleight of hand Datura had secured herself her own drink after all: the previous owner now dozing in the corner - the lightweight. She raised the glass and her eyes, and with a flirtatious fever to both her voice and expression, pressed, “Cheers?” It was readily accepted. “CHEERS!” The chief reddened slightly at the turn of events but none the less swiftly clanked their drinks and quickly settled back down onto his robust behind: happily obliging the crafty and touchable motions of the Gerudo as she marked him as her own. Unbeknownst to everyone else except one however, Datura’s keen, molten eyes had spotted a shadow in the rafters and a most mysterious stranger. A thoughtful, teasing tooth nipped at her lower lip and she restrained a small laugh through her veil. She made sure her stare lingered in all its artful warmth, to make him acknowledge her discovery. But she knew that all good things had a limit. And indeed, if she had stared a split second longer he would’ve been noticed by the others too! And that wouldn’t be very fun at all now would it? She winked at the Sheikah and then submerged herself in her stolen drink. With the burning courage still fresh in her chest, she decided it was then time for a little performance. “You will watch me, won’t you?” Datura cooed to the chief. She pressed her assets right up against his thick arm and narrowed her eyes like a wilful prey at the mercy of his ‘overwhelming’ charms. “You perform?” He blabbered. “I perform.” She confirmed with a perk of her brow, then twisted her tongue with a double meaning and added in a low whisper into his ear, “For you: anything.” He laughed with ego-rubbed delight and she rose, with a lingering touch on his shoulder and a wink over her own. It was a struggle to find to anywhere to stand really, let alone where to dance but Datura could make do. Besides, most of these men had their minds in the gutter anyway and would probably appreciate the view from their very appropriate places. Then it begun. Soft, slowly simmering, like the hush of a calm tide against a moonlit beach, Datura’s voice and movements flowed like water. She moved like the gentle breeze. Sung like the charming waves. Then eventually, in due time, her voice lifted into full, possessive force. Her dance became stronger but no less repetitive, and with every skilful glide of her arms her audience grew and their trance strengthened. Her practice was paying off and it turned out that she hadn’t been conned at all by that whimpering mess of a bard last night! ’Goron’s Lullaby’. A triumphant but nonetheless seductive smile, glowed from her very eyes. In a brief flicker and then a thoughtful delay, those very same eyes locked onto the Sheikah above once more. If he was no fool then perhaps he would’ve covered his ears already. But if he was? Then I may have to catch him. A giggle curled up her throat in a delightful chime that matched all her intricate bells and jewellery. Everyone else though, had become so intoxicated by their own greed and drinks that they scarcely noticed that it was the Gerudo who was charming them all into a blissful, ignorant sleep.
At the man's words, the Sheikah found himself leaning forward. But no further hints as to where or what the deal exactly would entail was revealed. But judging from the men's responses, heavily intoxicated or not, it had to be massive. But the Gerudo soon threw a spanner in the works. How did she spot him so easily?! Silas shrank back. Either she there was more to her than met the eye, or he had grown sloppy in his hiding. Though considering how long it had been since he had last been send out to spy, and the fact there was a rather large metal hand perched on the beam behind him, it was most likely the fault was with himself. The woman winked and returned her attention to the man next to her. Her behaviour was... odd, to say the least. Anyone in league with the merchant would've immediately alerted them to a spy, an simple entertainer or waitress would've alerted the guards, fearful for disruption of the establishment's peace and reputation. No, this was someone to keep an eye out for. Someone who could either prove useful, or a danger to his mission. And Silas' opinion was quickly leaning towards the latter. Though judging more as a warrior, and less an appreciator of the arts, the woman moved gracefully in her dance. Mesmerizing, almost. Although- No, this was not just a dance. Silas jolted, realising he had nearly been drifting off. Her song was a spell, quite literally, lulling the men around her too sleep, all of them too drunk to notice what was happening. This woman was not a mere entertainer. The Sheikah frowned, clamping his hands over his ears, metal on one side, flesh on the other, not quite looking at the Gerudo but keeping her in his field of vision. When Silas was sure the she was done with her song and dance, he unclamped his hands from his head, looking downwards, body tense and ready to move if need be. There really wasn't any point now in pretending he hadn't been seen. "So... care to explain yourself?"
Datura gazed with unrestrained delight and pride over the sea of men laid at her feet, successfully incapacitated by her charms. A rush assaulted her chest. Butterflies danced riots in her stomach. Eyes of glorious gold flashed with victory. A glutton for self-indulgence, and admittedly a little giddy with the power of her success, all the excitement swelled and mutated and burned so bright it all become too much for her mere mortal body to contain. A laugh bubbled up from her gut and she scarcely managed to capture it, smothering it just in time with a firm seal of one hand. "So...care to explain yourself?" Red eyelashes flickered upwards with a subtle start. She'd almost forgotten about him. With a delicate, pondering curl her fingers slid off her lips. Triumph still blazed in all its vibrant radiance in her eyes but a slight tweak in one of her cheeks narrowed her stare with growing mischief. "I could ask you the same thing, handsome. Perhaps if you come down from your high perch we can run away together and discuss our motives in private." She chimed a small, teasing laugh and cocked up one suggestive eyebrow. Yet she was no fool. She knew a man on his guard when she saw one and this one looked mighty serious. On a job perhaps? There certainly was a very wary, dutiful air hanging stiffly about him. He was all tension and suspicion. Like I might eat him up if he got any closer. The Gerudo flashed her teeth with a wide, amused smile. Aaaaah, this thrill is too poisonous. To work, girl. While the Sheikah debated his life choices Datura thought it wise to reap her crops in case any unwelcome disturbances robbed her of the chance: she knew what those darned Goddesses could be like sometimes. She snaked from one thug to another, hands sliding into their pockets and through their belongings before slyly - silently - gracing her way towards the next with a dancer's guile, each step more rich than the last. As she did so she was possessed with an urge to talk further, almost worried that the next time she stood up a blade would be at her throat, aimed from behind - and that wouldn't be very nice. "Honestly I'm just here to have fun, handsome." She assured. For a brief moment she paused to look up at him once more. "Want me to massage some of that tension out of you? You look awfully stiff for a place like this. Not enjoying it?"
Silas blinked. Handsome? Was it was going to be that sort of evening? He ignored her further comment, instead watching her move around the room- searching through the pockets of the men. His eyes widened slightly. Whatever her allegiance might be, he had to beat her to his target. Nimbly as a cat, the Sheikah dropped down from his perch, lightly landing next to his target. Silas eyed the Gerudo warily as he knelt down next to the unconcious merchant, carefully unbuttoning his coat. His hands slipped inside the man's overcoat, patting down his pockets with practised ease. Not much later he procured a fat envelope from between the fabric. Correspondence. Or perhaps shipment records. The merchant stirred once, apparently startling himself in his sleep with a particularly loud snore, but remained oblivious to the scene around him. He was not terribly convinced by the Gerudo's assurance. She seemed to have an entirely different idea of what 'fun' was. But perhaps it was a Gerudo thing. Although the fact she kept referring to him as handsome was starting to concern the Sheikah. "Erm... No thank you. I'm good." Trying to hide his fluster, his eyes swept the room once more. Silas doubted any of the other men would've carried any more evidence. If they had, his network would have known about it. And besides, the Gerudo had already pilfered their pockets. Unfortunate, but not disastrous. He had what he needed. "Well then, I'll be off."
He's leaving? Already? The mild surprise was overthrown by swift disappointment, souring the Gerudo's face with a bitter purse of her lips: one which she would've allowed to form a pout if she were a few years younger. Alas the charms of youth were long gone with the only pucker being that of her furrowed brow. For a brief moment she debated threatening to scream. She could play their current, somewhat dangerous scenario to her own advantage and force him to keep her company at least a little longer. However...something tells me this one could easily silence me, by scarcely making a noise himself at that. The risk would be worse than futile. Whether the stranger would simply knock her out or kill her on the spot was an interesting subject to mull over - he certainly looked more than capable of the latter - yet Datura had no time for such empty speculations. Her scrutiny needed to locate something more ripe, more promising. He was too curious of an unexpected toy to let him slip away so easily. Though he certainly lacks a healthy serving of curiosity. That irritating sense of duty has practically wrung him dry of it! But perhaps that was the key: duty. Unfortunately the stranger already had in his possession that which he seemed to have come for, and Datura wasn't knowledgeable enough about the details of the thugs' business so she couldn't directly play to his needs. But he seemed upright enough. He was practically immune to her charms too. So the only option is that then. Was it worth it? Could she really pull it off? She was a fine actress but those sharp eyes of his could possibly cut right through any mask she donned, no matter how artfully. Unfortunately that very same, possibly lethal danger offered equal, ample excitement. And at the end of the day, she certainly wasn't ending their fated meeting here. "Then you're just going to leave?" The words were forced, a little hushed, a bit heartbroken, through lips nervously nibbled by teeth. Datura's eyes lowered to one side as her brow pressed in from above in the midst an internal struggle; pride apparently wouldn't allow her to ask so directly for the stranger's help. So instead with a jingle and chime, one hand rose to its opposing upper arm only to grip and massage the supple muscle there with absentminded distress. She seemed at a loss for words. Indeed, when she spoke again the forlorn mutter sounded intended more for her own ears than for his: though of course, it was still audible. “There was a reason I left those documents alone.”
Silas stood in the doorway, fingers brushing against the curtain when the Gerudo spoke up again. The Sheikah looked back, eyes narrowed. That was a rather abrupt change in demeanor. Suspiciously abrupt. Was she somehow involved in this scheme? She did not appear to be on the men's side, why else would she pick their pockets? But still... How had she known the documents were there? Silas eyed the woman intently, seizing her up. She was now suddenly the picture of innocence and distress, a world apart from her behaviour from mere seconds ago. The Sheikah frowned. Whatever cloying perfume hung in the room was making it difficult to think clearly. Eyes darted back to the curtain. It could very well be that the woman was playing games with him. He could leave now, inspect the documents and be done with it, but on the off chance she actually knew more about it... It would be bad practice if he let a lead get away or ignored it. "...What do you know of those documents?"
Haha...ha... Now what, you stupid woman?! Her breath hitched and the words abandoned her, all to the tremors of her flurrying heart, struck with a thrill of panic. She felt alive. Stupid and alive. Yet so alive nonetheless. Mere curiosity - sprinkled with a healthy helping of pride - had gotten her into rather a sticky situation all of a sudden. And it wasn't just a puddle that was lapping its viscous goo around her ankles...it was a mire, the border of which she had already crossed. She needed to think of something: quick! And something better than just a patchy, ramshackle impromptu blurt. Worst things worse he'd just kill me, right? Not usually the sort of comfort your average folks tend to lean on, but the possible severity of garnering this mysterious man's interest added a tantalizing spice to her situation. It excited her. Awakened her. Helped her get a grip on her nerves as effectively as a good slap to the face or a straight shot of black coffee ever could. No. You know what, no. So what if I'm making this up on the spot? Does that mean I should just shrivel away? No! Not at all. I wanted your attention. I have it. And now I shall keep it. The Gerudo snapped up her golden eyes and pinned them on the Sheikah. They seemed to smile - or laugh - narrowing with a most cryptic expression of silent humour. "Did you really think you were the only one looking for those documents?" She mocked through a sweet smile. In a bold, tantalising glimmer of pearly white her teeth shone through the parting of her spreading lips. "Or for you, for that matter." She added. "You're not as mysterious as you may think, stranger. But you most certainly stand out with that impressively large asset of yours." She grinned now and cocked one eyebrow in challenge. Her eyes flirted with his figure, her words dripped with sugar, and somewhere between the lines she was weaving hidden meaning behind yet more hidden meaning, and silently, slyly laughing to herself throughout. "My name is Datura: I think you'll need it."
