(1312-02-09) A Whim of Fate
Summary: Gal and Jeanne revisit the scene of the crime and share a slightly awkward moment.
RL Date: Feb 09 2020
Related: Happens right after this.
jeanne gal 

Upper Floors — The Kraken's Den


Climbing those stairs again means revisiting those very recent memories. And yet, Jeanne allows herself only one brief moment of hesitation, before she heads to the upper floor. Perhaps it is the awareness of Gal trailing after her, a young enthused guard of the city watch, that encourages her. Or it may be that Jeanne may be tougher than most think. She reaches the hallway and walks all the way to the doorway, where the splintered areas of the hinges clearly indicate, where the Skaldi had managed to break into the room. There is someone up here, probably, to guard the room, and Jeanne waits for Gal to catch up to her and help her with gaining entrance.

Gal isn't entirely without wibbles, his own self. Someone died up here, after all, and those splinters all over the floor are haunting to look at. But he keeps his countenance clear as he can, following after Jeanne and giving her a supportive half-smile if she looks back. He does pass by, quite gingerly, and go to meet the guard ahead of her. A friend of his, to all evidence; they grin at one another and trade a knuckle-rap while Gal explains that the both of them are going to go inside. It's not much of an issue, after that, and Gal looks back to Jeanne with a tip of his head, but goes on ahead of her, just making sure the path is clear, and giving the place a critical once-over.

Gal spends 1 luck points on looking real good.
<FS3> Gal rolls Perception+5: Success. (1 3 6 2 4 5 1 4 4 3 1 5 7 3)
Gal spends 1 luck points on looking for real this time.
<FS3> Gal rolls Perception: Good Success. (2 1 6 5 7 4 4 6 8)

The window across from the door has been closed, since last night. What remains though is the shadow, where the Kraken's staff have tried to clean the blood stain off the wooden floor. That shadow being somewhere halfway between door and window. Anything else seems not to have been touched. The bed looks orderly made. Well, for Kraken standards, at least. On the desk to the side, there are indeed a few sheets of blank parchment, beside a quill and an inkwell. Beside the bed, a sword in its scabbard rests against the wall. There is also a bundle of sorts, on the other side of the bed, holding a few garments of rather mediocre quality. The dead body, at least has been removed from this room, but somehow, the spirit of the unfortunate inhabitant may still linger. That is, if one believes in such spooky theories.

Jeanne enters after Gal, offering Gal's friend, the other guard, a smile. She seems to pause as well, for a moment. Taking in the interior. Before turning towards that desk. "There," she points it out towards Gal. "Want me to sit down and write out what I remember of the prophecy?"

Gal is a little wary of the ghost on the floor, and something in this room is setting the hairs at the back of his neck on end. When Jeanne speaks up again it jitters him a little but, but, "Oh— yeah. Sorry. It's kind of weird being in here, huh? Are you OK?" Figuring, maybe, if he can feel it, she sure can, too.

Jeanne's dark eyes look towards the remnants of the stain on the floor, and she nods. "I am alright, Monsieur guard," she assures and then sits down at the desk. She reaches for the parchment at the top of the pile and lays it out before her. Her right hand reaches for the inkwell to remove the stopper, and then she takes the quill in hand, eyeing the tip of it sceptically, before she dips it into the well.

Gal sniffs, once, nodding briskly as though— why shouldn't she be alright? Well, there's no reason not to be, is there? He'll leave her to the writing, for the time being, distracted by the sword, the bundle of clothes, which he comes close to, then veers away from again. Prying in a dead man's things. Gosh. He ambles back toward the desk and sort of hangs uselessly about behind Jeanne… well, behind and to one side, so as not to be hovering creepily or breathing on her neck. Then, a thought re-occurs. "You look familiar," he finally brings it up.

The quill scratches lightly over the parchment, as the seamstress appears to be quite focused on her task. Her handwriting is looking actually a bit too even and pleasant on the eye to be expected of a commoner. When Gal appears behind her, Jeanne's hand slows slightly in writing. But when he says the three words (no, not those!), the seamstress lifts the quill off the parchment and turns in her seat to regard the young city guard fully. "I do?" She smiles. "I don't recall seeing you visit at l'Aiguille, Monsieur guard."

Gal turns his back to the wall, easing up to lean against it beside the writing-desk, in case his hovering is making the woman anxious. Not that he seems much in the way of a threat. Mild eyes, mild voice, reasonable manner, and retiring. But he can also get a better look at her face from here, and he regards her profile sideways from where he is, such as not to stare. "I haven't been. My girlfriend usually manages my clothes. I mean, at least the ones that aren't issued by the Citadel." Of which he has a couple pieces. "I wonder, do you have a sister or something?"

"Not that I know of," Jeanne replies, enduring that look of his. "I have no sister." She does not look intimidated, but rather surprised and curious at his observation. "You have a girlfriend?" She lowers her gaze, lips curving upwards. "I should have guessed. Not surprising."

"Or just like… someone a lot of people stop you and say, "Hey, you remind me of"?" Gal puts forward another prompt. Maybe giving her an out? He doesn't seem very keen to say where he thinks he may have seen her before, at least. But she slits it back around to Ori, and a bashful little smile flutters at his lips. He looks down, too. He might even blush and scuff a boot at the floor. "Yeah," he answers. "I mean. I'm not a little kid. I've had a lot a girlfriends and boyfriends," both of which are… probable exaggerations. "But I really like this one. I think I'm in love with her." He pauses. "Oh, gosh, is that bad luck to say out loud in a dead guy's room?"

<FS3> Jeanne rolls Composure: Failure. (4 5 6 5 2 5 6)
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Jeanne=Subterfuge Vs Gal=Perception
< Jeanne: Great Success (2 7 6 3 5 7 8 1 7 3 2) Gal: Good Success (3 8 7 2 7 5 5 4 1)
< Net Result: Jeanne wins - Marginal Victory

"No?" The question should leave her indifferent, perhaps, curious, at most. Even so, there is that faint flaring of nostrils, the way her pupils dilate as she holds his gaze. "This doesn't happen to me at all, Monsieur. And…" She catches that smile of hers from dimming completely. "I don't recall having seen you before. It must be… a whim of the Companions." There, her shift of topic provides distraction, and Jeanne replies to his half-question, "To be in love and state as much, regardless of the place, can never be bad luck, I suppose?"

<FS3> Gal rolls Mind+Mind: Success. (3 3 2 8 5 6)

"Oh. Well, it's your first time, I guess," Gal pops up his shoulders, regularly affable, with love-blinders firmly in place. But there's an issue, the name that belongs to the face he's thinking of, and suddenly it snaps into the forefront of his mind. "There's a person called Lavernia, that's it. You could be twins," he goes on. "I mean, not that you are. It's just… it happens that way, sometimes. Like you said. A whim."

<FS3> Jeanne rolls Composure: Good Success. (6 5 8 2 3 3 7)

The name. It has Jeanne lift a brow, and for a moment, there is that silence that follows. The silence of pondering different options of reaction. "A whim," she repeats, and air leaves her nose in faint amusement. "It is, as you say. A whim of fate. I told you truth. I have no sister, Monsieur. And… that particular phase in my life, I have left behind. I am quite content with my current situation." Her brows furrow a little as she considers further. "You wouldn't wish to… take up such a whim and use it against me?"

<FS3> Jeanne rolls Seduction: Success. (1 1 6 5 5 5 7 5 3)

<FS3> Gal rolls Composure: Good Success. (8 7 7 5 5)

"Oh, it is you!" Gal seems more relieved he isn't losing his absolute marbles than anything else. "OK," the weirdness between them can dissipate. Unless… she starts using her flirty voice on him? "Uhm," he answers, "I mean, no, I don't care. I mean, it's not that I don't care, I just… you changed jobs. That's cool. And I can get wanting to change names, too. Like… just wanting to be someone else for a little bit where people can't… judge you or anything. So, like, no problems, OK? Jeanne?" He tips a little smile, using her new name.

Her flirty voice? It may not be as obvious as that. Just a tiny shift in nuance in her tone, and that slight tilt of her head, the look of her eyes, regarding him with a mixture of distress and promise? It is a possibility, offered in all subtlety to the young guard of the City Watch. Even so, his reply has Jeanne exhale with a bit of relief. "I am glad you think so." She straightens a little in her seat. "No problems, then. You want me to finish this?" Her eyes shift to the half-written account of the prophecy on the desk, and then back to Gal, along with a warm smile.

"Yus plz," Gal murmurs, a little abashed to have gotten so off-track, but with a sneaky little grin for Jeanne.

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