Date: 11/13/2001 11:49 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
Blue light flooded the room as he pushed the final switch, shutting off the playback recorder at the peak of the room opposite the door. The monitor went blank, then to the default shade of azure light with huge white lettering reading "AV IN 2" blared across the upper right corner.
Breaking in to the Outback surveillance room behind the scoreboard was the easy part. Actually doing the deed was more work than he'd figured on. It had taken him almost as long to figure out how to work the damn machines as it did to find the tapes, and from there the correct time frame to copy.
Almost a year and a half ago a boy by the name of Beck Weller had fought his way up to emerald rank, then wrested FireStar away from Ria and disappeared with it. Rousse had informed him that there was rumors floating around Badside that there was an enormous third-party bid for the gem should anyone actually recover it, and the bounty wasn't from anyone the old elf could trace back to the Outback.
The reward was a payoff big enough for any motivation the treasure hunter inside him could ask for. With that much money he'd finally break even with the hoard he lost when someone decided to evict him from his old arena home in the warehouse district. Some payback would be in order.
More than that though, he felt fiercely protective of these opals, especially the ones he'd previously held. They had history together. If someone was going to find it, it was going to be him, and he'd decide if whoever was asking for it was the kind of person he'd want to hand it over to.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose he swiped up the tapes marked "June, year 3" and stuffed them back in their tidy little rack, pocketing the disks he'd copied certain files onto. Nobody seemed to know anything about this Beck, other than what could be commonly observed by watching tapes of him fighting.
He'd give the files to Rousse and see if the old elf could scrounge up some clues from the cut of the kid's clothes, or shape of his face, or any identifying marks of some obscure race that Tareth had never heard of. The elf had useful contacts sometimes.
For the third time tonight, he could have sworn he saw Matt's shadow pass across the crack of light showing in the door frame. Either was seeing things, Matt wasn't aware of what he was doing - unlikely, or he trusted Tareth enough not to deface anything important.
At any rate, he was done here. With one last glance spared across the room to make sure he left it in the same condition as when he came in, he slipped out.
Tome Raider
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Pictures are worth a thousand words.
Date: 11/23/2001 7:04 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Sasha Dushku
She couldn't decipher which it was that gave her the most pleasure at that point in time, the soft, fat raindrops that were plopping down on her fiery red hair to streak it down her cheeks, the pelting sound of the men nearby playing club ball, or the hot blonde sitting opposite of her as they careful dug out and wiped off the arcaic bones. Each tool of hers was in its neat place, allowing her to simply work and hum
happily in the dim grayness.
"Isn't the term "whistle" while you work?" The blonde taunted, cerulean eyes the most brilliant in the dismal dusk, Sasha could only smile.
"Trust me, with my whistling abilities, humming is your best bet, and let's not even get into my singing ability." She herself shuddered with horrific amusement at that thought and siphoned a bit of mud away from the yellowed treasure.
"Then let's skip music all together and you can tell me more of your stories." The smile returned was soaked in by Sasha's grey eyes, the usual emerald green that goes with red hair had been somehow misplaced and was only available nearest the iris, the rest of the color had been a lucid grey, blended with what would seem to be a blue color. It was her only claim to fame other than her stories.
The red head thought a moment, massaging her chin with one hand, the other still buried in brushing off the liquid dirt coating her current interest. Mud clung a bit to to the soft peach complexion of her face as she looked back up.
"Have I told you the origins of club ball?" Tilting her head backwards to where the men had cleared a space and lay wood so that they could bat around a ball back and forth. The sounds of the club hitting the newly carved ball were almost as soothing as the rain pelting against the leaves of the surrounding forest floor. The blonde nodded absently as she pulled free a stray twig that was amidst their skeleton.
"You started, but I'm more interested in the story of the last skeleton we found. The fluke."
The redhead grinned as she freed another section of the clinging soil and began another.
"Let's see.. once upon a time, there was-"
"A busy woman who's service were needed." A gruff voice interrupted, startling both of the girls, the blonde squealed a bit and dropped her cleaning brush.
"Deidre," Sasha's lips were pressed grimly at the sudden interruption, but at the same time her curiousity was piqued, she'd done business with this particular man before and knew him well, "would you finish with your section and then cover Furlonious with the tarp? I don't know how long I'll be, so just relax the rest of the afternoon, the light has pretty much faded anyway."
The blonde nodded, still staring at the man in the green robes suspiciously as he and the redhead walked off towards the tents. It was several hours later, and quite a bit after the man in the green robes had sauntered off from their encampment that Deidre wandered into the tent to check on Sasha. She was quietly studying several pictures that were lain out on the desk in front of her, with such an intensity that at first the blonde was
uncomfortable and hesitated moving any closer.
She inched closer to overlook the redheads shoulder and eyed the myriad of pictures of seemingly one man in particular.
"That's amazing.. " She couldn't help the words she breathed as she peered over Sasha's shoulder but the redhead didn't seem to mind and instead simply offered up a picture of the same blonde boy with his neck exposed.
"You think just the pictures are great? Look closely at his neck."
Deidre inspected the strange colored picture as directed and her breath caught in her throat.
"The bracers on his wrists.. could it be... ?" She didn't dare to finish the sentance as if that alone would cause it to be the opposite. Sasha turned in her seat, a brightly smug, happy look creasing her otherwise pleasant features.
"Mautheril in the flesh, the neck there," she pointed to the boys torn and seared flesh, the star pattern unmistakeably clear, "proves him to be of the Kithainis empire.. some of the slaves' were punished by cutting their necks and burning their larynxs so that they couldn't talk. I can't believe it, actual proof." Deidre was listening intently, now studying the other pictures.
"That poor boy, and he's so.. " She was searching for a word as she gazed into the profile of the blonde headed boy, her finger tracing a blackened steel bracer on his wrist.
"Indeed, a self proclaimed woman lover like myself would certainly not turn him down.. wonder if he's single." She grinned madly as Deidre looked at her amused.
"A boy worthy of Sasha's time.. you'd wear him out in seconds.. for his sake, I hope he's not single." She winked at the boss and set the picture down gently, "How did they get such detailed pictures? I mean, your drawing is amazing, but these are like.. real life almost. I feel like I could reach out and touch him."
Sasha could only shrug a bit as the whole thing honestly baffled her as well.
"Something called a secure cameron or something. They took still frame shoots." She herself didn't understand technology, candles were still amazing to her, but whatever.. she'd given the man the information he'd wanted, for what, she had yet to learn if she ever would.
Something she'd missed the first time around caught her glance and she picked up a previously soaked in picture to hold it close.
"Look there," she said holding the picture close to the candle light, "in his bracer.. what's that?"
The two women were bent over silently studying, the sound of raindrops prominent on the top of the tent to keep the world from falling into a deep silence.
"It looks like some kind of gem.. red?" Deidre questioned as she rubbed her temples, Sasha leaned back thoughtfully.
"Hmm. Why are you wanted Mystery Man?" Her lips pursed with thought, the old rich man who'd hired her had more than her curiousity now.. usually his needs were pretty clear, this however was in left field for even him. For a museum head, she certainly was fixated on this, she frowned at herself and shook her head.
"Aw, phooey. Let's go play some club ball and relax the rest of the night shall we? Furlonious will need us in the morning." She grinned wide at the blonde and pushed out of her chair to gather some ale for the two, it was out of her hands now, and the mystery man would simply remain an enigma.
From: Sasha Dushku
She couldn't decipher which it was that gave her the most pleasure at that point in time, the soft, fat raindrops that were plopping down on her fiery red hair to streak it down her cheeks, the pelting sound of the men nearby playing club ball, or the hot blonde sitting opposite of her as they careful dug out and wiped off the arcaic bones. Each tool of hers was in its neat place, allowing her to simply work and hum
happily in the dim grayness.
"Isn't the term "whistle" while you work?" The blonde taunted, cerulean eyes the most brilliant in the dismal dusk, Sasha could only smile.
"Trust me, with my whistling abilities, humming is your best bet, and let's not even get into my singing ability." She herself shuddered with horrific amusement at that thought and siphoned a bit of mud away from the yellowed treasure.
"Then let's skip music all together and you can tell me more of your stories." The smile returned was soaked in by Sasha's grey eyes, the usual emerald green that goes with red hair had been somehow misplaced and was only available nearest the iris, the rest of the color had been a lucid grey, blended with what would seem to be a blue color. It was her only claim to fame other than her stories.
The red head thought a moment, massaging her chin with one hand, the other still buried in brushing off the liquid dirt coating her current interest. Mud clung a bit to to the soft peach complexion of her face as she looked back up.
"Have I told you the origins of club ball?" Tilting her head backwards to where the men had cleared a space and lay wood so that they could bat around a ball back and forth. The sounds of the club hitting the newly carved ball were almost as soothing as the rain pelting against the leaves of the surrounding forest floor. The blonde nodded absently as she pulled free a stray twig that was amidst their skeleton.
"You started, but I'm more interested in the story of the last skeleton we found. The fluke."
The redhead grinned as she freed another section of the clinging soil and began another.
"Let's see.. once upon a time, there was-"
"A busy woman who's service were needed." A gruff voice interrupted, startling both of the girls, the blonde squealed a bit and dropped her cleaning brush.
"Deidre," Sasha's lips were pressed grimly at the sudden interruption, but at the same time her curiousity was piqued, she'd done business with this particular man before and knew him well, "would you finish with your section and then cover Furlonious with the tarp? I don't know how long I'll be, so just relax the rest of the afternoon, the light has pretty much faded anyway."
The blonde nodded, still staring at the man in the green robes suspiciously as he and the redhead walked off towards the tents. It was several hours later, and quite a bit after the man in the green robes had sauntered off from their encampment that Deidre wandered into the tent to check on Sasha. She was quietly studying several pictures that were lain out on the desk in front of her, with such an intensity that at first the blonde was
uncomfortable and hesitated moving any closer.
She inched closer to overlook the redheads shoulder and eyed the myriad of pictures of seemingly one man in particular.
"That's amazing.. " She couldn't help the words she breathed as she peered over Sasha's shoulder but the redhead didn't seem to mind and instead simply offered up a picture of the same blonde boy with his neck exposed.
"You think just the pictures are great? Look closely at his neck."
Deidre inspected the strange colored picture as directed and her breath caught in her throat.
"The bracers on his wrists.. could it be... ?" She didn't dare to finish the sentance as if that alone would cause it to be the opposite. Sasha turned in her seat, a brightly smug, happy look creasing her otherwise pleasant features.
"Mautheril in the flesh, the neck there," she pointed to the boys torn and seared flesh, the star pattern unmistakeably clear, "proves him to be of the Kithainis empire.. some of the slaves' were punished by cutting their necks and burning their larynxs so that they couldn't talk. I can't believe it, actual proof." Deidre was listening intently, now studying the other pictures.
"That poor boy, and he's so.. " She was searching for a word as she gazed into the profile of the blonde headed boy, her finger tracing a blackened steel bracer on his wrist.
"Indeed, a self proclaimed woman lover like myself would certainly not turn him down.. wonder if he's single." She grinned madly as Deidre looked at her amused.
"A boy worthy of Sasha's time.. you'd wear him out in seconds.. for his sake, I hope he's not single." She winked at the boss and set the picture down gently, "How did they get such detailed pictures? I mean, your drawing is amazing, but these are like.. real life almost. I feel like I could reach out and touch him."
Sasha could only shrug a bit as the whole thing honestly baffled her as well.
"Something called a secure cameron or something. They took still frame shoots." She herself didn't understand technology, candles were still amazing to her, but whatever.. she'd given the man the information he'd wanted, for what, she had yet to learn if she ever would.
Something she'd missed the first time around caught her glance and she picked up a previously soaked in picture to hold it close.
"Look there," she said holding the picture close to the candle light, "in his bracer.. what's that?"
The two women were bent over silently studying, the sound of raindrops prominent on the top of the tent to keep the world from falling into a deep silence.
"It looks like some kind of gem.. red?" Deidre questioned as she rubbed her temples, Sasha leaned back thoughtfully.
"Hmm. Why are you wanted Mystery Man?" Her lips pursed with thought, the old rich man who'd hired her had more than her curiousity now.. usually his needs were pretty clear, this however was in left field for even him. For a museum head, she certainly was fixated on this, she frowned at herself and shook her head.
"Aw, phooey. Let's go play some club ball and relax the rest of the night shall we? Furlonious will need us in the morning." She grinned wide at the blonde and pushed out of her chair to gather some ale for the two, it was out of her hands now, and the mystery man would simply remain an enigma.