Difference between revisions of "Log:Sophia Goes To Market"

16 May, 2018

Sophia pays a high price for her newest Goblin Contract.

It's not hard to figure out where Goblin Contracts may be found.

The Market is expansive, but sparse. On the other side of the Hedge, it seems as if twilight is setting in. Hobs and changelings tend not to linger when it becomes easy for darklings and other mischievous things to prowl. Hulking security is only good if you can detect interlopers, and isn't a deterrent to those who can move without being seen.

Towards the west side of the Market is where knowledge is more easily found.

Of all of the caravans that remain, there is one. In it as a small, slight creature -- female, by the length of her silver-and-white hair, which seeps out from a weathered brown robe -- who seems to be asleep. It's hard to tell: under her hood, there is naught but darkness. And snoring. But all about her in the caravan are books.

Lots and lots of books.

Sophia clears her throat. "Excuse me?" she says, soft. "I'm here looking for a Contract..." She looks around, wary, hand on the hilt of her knife. She frowns, then looks back at the hob, and lets her hand drop again. She seems to physically remind herself to trust in the laws of the Market.

There's a snort from under the hood, before a pair of blue eyes open like orbs against the blackness that lurks within.

"Contract?" Cough. "Contract?" Snort. "Looking for contract?" Cough. Sniffle. "Mm. Zaza knows contracts. Zaza knows things." The creature lifts up a wizened, bony finger, and points it at Sophia. "You have asked before? You ask now?"

A belch erupts, and hazy blue smoke rises out from the inky shadow in the hood.

Sophia takes a half-step back. "Um. Yes. The Contract 'Calling the Guardian'...?" She tilts her head, face drawn in worry, her eyes darting around.

The blue orbs shrink in response to the request, one larger than the other, in the universal sign of inquiry.

"'Calling the Guardian'?" Snort. "What you say? 'Calling the Guardian'?" Harumph. "Mm." And then, the creature -- the thing in the robe -- moves towards some of the books behind it. It truly is a tiny thing, no more than three feet tall. It does not walk so much as glide, its robe trailing to and along the ground. "Mmrrrrrr." And it purrs to itself thusly as it peruses the books without touching them.

A few minutes pass by.

The purring sound gets quieter. And quieter. And quieter, until the creature is silent for a few seconds. And then, there's another rumbling sound from it. With its back turned to Sophia, she can't get a good look at its face, or where it is looking, but --

-- well, it starts to snore again.

Sophia sighs softly and moves closer. "Excuse me," she says louder. "Please? I'd like my Contract."

Nope, that ain't gonna do it. Snore.

Sophia sighs again, and then--reaches into the stall to try and shake the hob's shoulder. She doesn't go near any of the books, but--

The hob's shoulder feels like air.

But the contact is enough to rouse the creature to life. It coughs, shakes, and shivers, and then whirls about on ghostly legs, blue eyes baleful and angry, voice hissing like a serpent's might. "No touch! No touch! You do not touch! No one touches Zaza!" The silver-and-white hair spreads away from its face, as if it were blasted by some non-existent wind.

Pause.

"Your contract. Hmph." The creature points its withered finger at Sophia. "Nothing. You have nothing. You get nothing. I have contract, yes. What you have, yes?" Hiss. "What will you give?"

Bargaining time.

Sophia eyes Zaza. "I'm sorry I had to try to touch you, but you fell asleep again." And then she considers what to offer. "I'll offer you my first memory of holding a gun."

The hob snorts in response.

"What need has Zaza of memories, child?" It hiccup-bobs. "Zaza has all the memories Zaza needs." The shadow growls. "No. No, Zaza cares not for that. Zaza wants -- " It thinks for a moment, and then sighs wistfully.

" -- flesh."

From the blackness, a toothy grin emerges, filled with small, serrated shark's teeth. "Yes. Yes, Zaza wants flesh. Mm." The grin disappears into the darkness, replaced instead by a purple, toothed tongue rolls along a mouth that does not exist.

"Gimme."

Sophia stares in horror. "What will you do with my flesh?" she asks, before regaining her composure a little. "No flesh," she says firmly, "but I'll give you my first tattoo."

In response, Zaza laughs.

It is a chilling laugh. It starts as a high-pitched tittering sound, but swiftly falls to a baritone rumbling noise. The silver-and-white hair falls limp, and its eyes disappear into the darkness for a moment, as if shadow lids had closed upon them. "Tattoo? What need has Zaza for a tattoo?" It chuckles again, giving that same laugh, only shorter.

"No."

The creature floats over to a book, and pulls it out with hands that shake gently. Turning, it opens up the book, and shows it to Sophia. But there are no words on the pages, no: every page is blank. Despite that, as if by some unseen wind, the pages start to flip by themselves. And, as they do so, music seems to emanate from it.

This music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5W5cqlSY1w

(Cue up to 1:00, and listen to 3:15.)

Sophia listens, and her expression is startled. "You don't want touched, yet you want--" She just looks perplexed, now.

It does seem confusing.

In response, Zaza makes a huffing sound. "Please." It eye-rolls as best it can, seeing as how its eyes are just floating in darkness. "Zaza wants to know. Zaza wants to taste joys of the flesh." It points at Sophia's head. "You. You have had joys of the flesh. You give //those// memories to Zaza, yes. You give them, so Zaza knows." And then, that horrid maw emerges. "Zaza thinks it will be tasty."

Oh dear.

Sophia relaxes. "Oh. You want my memories of sex? Hell. How many?" She grins at Zaza, then. She seems to get around, this tattoo-laden brunette. "Give you two for that contract."

And then, the price.

"All of them." Beat. "Take it or leave it." A bead of inky drool drips onto the front of the creature's cloak.

It's a high-price.

Sophia blinks. But she exhales. "Oh." And then she nods, slow. "Okay. All of 'em."

"So be it."

The words are ominous, and uttered so. The creature known as Zaza reaches a hand out towards Sophia, and then mumbles to itself in a language that sounds like elven gibberish. Slowly but surely, the knowledge of the Goblin Contract commonly known as 'Calling the Guardian' is implanted. Slowly but surely, the knowledge of all of Sophia's sexual experiences get siphoned out.

That's one way to get your virginity back.

The process takes two minutes. At the end, the hob creature bursts into wracking sobs, and floats into a corner of its caravan. Drops of Hades fall to the floor, inky-black and light-sucking. Its sorrow is uncontrollable and unwavering and unreasonable.

"Leave me," it sobs, distraught.

Sophia pauses, watching Zaza's distress, before leaving helplessly.