the channeling

[groundrules]

THE CHANNELING

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WEALTH WHISPERS

Assignment: the Merchant fears that Matthias, alleged father of the undead Brotherhood, might be the ‘merchant’ who was due to receive dark water-infused grains by sea from the Hand. Chasing information, the Merchant routes party members towards the docks-side underworld district of Tibras, in the outskirts of Ephes. The Hand keeps grain warehouses nearby.

In Tibras, short and decayed houses are like parasitic growths toppling each other, plaster peels falling into rivulets of bloodshed. Tension thrives. Petrified, natives overwhelmingly number beggars, pleasure workers, crude bounty hunters and thieves, who look to cut throats or purse strings. Occasional bodies drift by the docks.

■ Just outside of Tibras is the abode of the merchants’ syndicate — a ring of warehouses, private clubs and houses of currency. Merchants here are protected via steep fees and travel freely. Inside the syndicate house, doorways are barred by inextinguishable living fire — which you can cross unharmed, if you rearrange the runes marked N, W, S, E on a nearby wall in a cardinal-point formation. You can also pretend to be a servant, a merchant or quality inspector to get to the Hand warehouses. Ask a clue.

Alternatively, the Merchant forewarns that a notable guest will join the syndicate for three nights: Captain Maximilian Hawk of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company, which deals in magical artefacts. Hold him at knifepoint, seduce him, do your worst for knowledge!

■ By the entrance to Tibras is the shop of Apollonius, noted collector of supernatural artefacts and information broker. Crafty and sly, he will cooperate, in exchange for a pair of ‘eyes’ from the ghost Tykhe, who haunts the nearby anonymous burial grounds. Come midnight, Tykhe’s spirit — whose sight was gouged — appears and picks out and bewitches a pair of marbles, buttons or stones to act as her ‘eyes.’ With them in hand, she searches the graveyard for her dead sister, Cassandra. You can steal the orbs, or she’ll give them freely, if you escort her from tomb to tomb to reunite with the mute ghost of Cassandra. Return to Apollonius.

■ Deeper within Tibras is a gambling nest of sailors who were cursed by a scorned sea witch to assume the appearance of sea creatures. Led by the giant octopus Crassus, they charge protection fees from commercial merchant ships and even intimidate pirates, gleaning information from sailors and recovering drowned bodies. This illustrious group adores games of chance — as long as you can cover your losses.

You can decide or RNG how many tries it takes for your character to win — submit a finished thread to get a question! The higher the stakes, the better the information.

— a scantly informed junior goldfish throws dice. Lose, and you must share a highly embarrassing secret.

— a moderately informed catfish, offering Baccarat. Lose, and he steals your good luck for 24 hours.

— a composed, well-informed whale plays roulette. Lose, and you must share one of your most precious memories.

— a highly-knowledgeable shark, Aurelius Longus, plays a mean hand of poker. Lose, and he asks blood or a pledge to save his life one day.

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THE FLOORS

Senate leader Caius Justus exits his seclusion, ending weeks of prayer to convey the message of Ephes’ divine patron, the Chained God of chaos. And he says in a public speech:

Friends, Ephesians, countrymen…

”Friends, Ephesians, countrymen, lend me your ears. I come to speak for the Chained Father, not to praise him. The victory men reap lives after them; but cowardice is often buried with their bones. So let it be with Ephes. The noble Senate tells you, the Chained Father wishes only Ephes’ destruction. If it were so, it is a grievous fault, and grievously has the Father answered for it. Here, under leave of Messalina and the Senate – for Messalina is an honourable speaker; so they are all, all honourable speakers – come I to speak of the Chained Father’s wishes. He was my maker, faithful and just to us: but Messalina says, turn away from him. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. He has brought many territories under the heel of Ephes. In his name did the Hand rise: did this in the Chained Father seem unworthy? When now you weep asking empire, the Chained Father answers: tells you to be made of sterner stuff. Yet Messalina says the Father is unworthy. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. You all did see that I withdrew to his temple, where he spoke to me: Ephes, seize your path alone — was that unworthy? Yet Messalina says to turn away from him. And sure, Messalina is an honourable speak. I speak not to disprove what Messalina spoke, but here I am to speak what I do know: you are all children of Chaos, not without cause. What cause withholds you, then, to use the Hand yourselves? O, ambition! You have fled to brutish citadels. And men have lost their courage. Bear with me: my heart is in the temple, there with the Chained God, and I must pause and beg the Senate to vote against Messalina, til it comes back to me. ”

Returning to public life, Caius Justus advises the Senate to refuse Messalina’s proposal, but defers to a vote. Citing recent civil unrest, he imposes citadel-wide 10 p.m. curfews, bans congregations of more than eight people in the streets and sends the Hand to confiscate any visible weapons and to quiet or pre-empt unrest. Hand members — forced to present in large numbers — appear erratic, prone to violent outbursts and to taking out their anger on civilians. Hand leader Narula is excessively smug.

Newscasters are careful with their words, speeches decrying Messalina abound, and senators are‘escorted’ by Hand delegations, also for their protection. Caius Justus announces he will run again for Senate leadership — to begrudged murmurs among Senators, given his previous pledge to retire.

Assignment: lure Senators toward the position that the party supports. After Caius Justus’ return:

■ 51 Senators back Caius Justus to refuse Messalina’s proposal.

■ Maximus Faustus convinces 53 Senators to accept Messalina’s proposal

■ Caelius Silvanus persuades 47 Senators to vote to postpone a decision on Messalina’s proposal for another season.

Following the party’s previous interventions, Senators are open to considering Messalina’s cause. Many are skittish, fearing their careers or lives will end with disobeying Caius Justus. Optionally, party members previously assigned a political role might receive threats from Caius Justus’ supporters.

■ Persuade, bribe, threaten or blackmail a minor Senator to switch votes. Perhaps you can offer coin or rally supporters in the marketplace for their next election, or heal their donkey or get rid of that pesky boy mooning after their daughter. Or maybe prove their corruption streak, or place a polite knife at their throats. Hold the whole Senate floor hostage, if you want, of blockade Senators from entering the Senate on voting day!

■ Ask for a RNGed Senator if you want or submit threads of swaying votes. A final tally will be taken on 19 November

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INCENSE

Priests of the Chained God whisper that the god shows signs of awakening to trigger an apocalypse. Chained and warded twelve times to prevent the end of the world, the Chained God allegedly rests in the Halls of the Sleeper, in the underground belly of his main temple in Ephes. Above ground, the temple is silent, rife with milling priests, hummed prayers and cloying hallucinogenic incense that encourages lethargy. Access is unrestricted, but monitored.

To progress downstairs, you may need to convince guards that you are one of the groups of ferociously devout pilgrim worshippers, or a priest. Below, you feel overcome by creeping, paralysing dread.

■ You are haunted by sinister, saccharine voices murmuring intrusive thoughts only you hear, diminishing your worth and paranoically asking if your companion means you harm. You are more irritable and prone to violence.

■ The halls increasingly resemble narrow subterranean corridors with limited and overheated air reserves. You reach locked stone gates, covered in loose chains and crudely carved with the inscription, the Sleeper awakes. Instructions state the Chained God demands sacrifice and proof of chaos.

■ To enter the Sleeper’s Hall, instructions say, you must commit an act of betrayal, by: drawing your companion’s blood and smearing it over the inscription (lean into the corruption!), which prevents them from entering the halls with you; or chaining them to the door with the gate shackles, condemning them to watch as you enter; or pushing your companion away, verbally eviscerating or attacking them until they flee. With player approval, your character could get a sense of what theirs is emotionally or physically vulnerable to, then exploit it. Acts of betrayal cannot be faked.

■ The Sleeper’s Hall is narrow, nearly spherical and lit by thin rivers of flowing magma that cross cracked floors. Amid swelter, you hear the periodic gulps and quakes of stone trembling around you. The supernaturally sensitive feel the presence of great, if constrained power.

■ The black water previously associated with the undead also gushes from rifts in the ground. It has a cold, sinister aura.

■ Search the room for clues — and leave urgently, before corruption consumes you.

■ Towards the middle of the room is a large, nebulously shaped creature, fully fettered and covered in magical wards, chains and blood-painted runes. Anyone in the Chained God’s presence may feel overcome by emotional or physical agony, claustrophobia and bloodlust — but the divinity only speaks with the RNG winner.

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NOTES:

■ Some players have asked about potentially stabbing ousting Caius Justus and Narula in a coup — everyone can plot and participate in that, and a plotting post will go up on 16 November.

■ NPC inbox, if you need anyone!

■ QUESTIONS

Comments

– seventeen black or twenty-nine red (wealth whispers, ota)

[cartographie]

[ You can’t rig a game of roulette that easily, and given her limited means and the short notice, Nami can’t do anything but observe the wheel as others play, watching the numbers the wheel falls on. ]

It’s the easiest way. [ When another from their group sidles up beside her Nami just starts talking. She’s experienced enough games of chance to be able to share a little insight, and she’s caught a few looks from some of the others that suggest not everyone’s dived into their local gambling hall. If they’re all supposed to be outsiders in a strange world (though honestly, armed, out-of-shape fishmen in suits aren’t that strange to Nami), then nobody should end up in dire straights. ]

Watch about thirty games and see which numbers win the most, then, play those numbers.

[ Not exactly a mystical secret, but it’s also not a bad place for someone to start. The wheel she’s been watching for a time now stops, and Nami gives a resolute nod when the winning number is announced, turning to the person beside her. ] Come on, we need information, don’t we?

[serio]

( did he mean to come this way? no. but the sea creatures caught his attention and so did the orange-haired navigator who's standing next to the roulette table, looking intent on making a gamble. hm. zoro sidles up to nami, curious to see what's up. )

Thirty games? ( that seems like a lot. ) I'm gonna need a drink. ( before he can even finish that sentence, a bottled cocktail is placed in his hand by some random person and he smirks, immediately taking a sip from it. this has been happening a lot lately -- him, just being handed a drink whenever he wants one, and nope, he's not even gonna question it. good things are meant to be appreciated, and that's that. zoro offers nami a drink from his bottle. it's rum punch. )

Any relation to Arlong? ( he nods at the whale in a suit, wondering if the reason nami's here has less to do with the gambling and more to do with her own curiosity about these guys. whatever it is, he's definitely going to stick around and make sure she doesn't get into too much trouble. the thing is their plans haven't changed. being trapped in this world is a mere a stopover. they'll be heading to the grand line again soon, so it's his job to make sure everyone stays safe. )

[cartographie]

[ Squaring her shoulders at the sound of that familiar voice, Nami bristles, not quite over the way they parted company when they first arrived in Ephes. Her lips purse, scrunching back in a disagreeable scowl before the motion of the bottle in his hand as he offers it catches her eye and draws her glare down from his face in profile to the drink in his hand. ] I've already been watching. [ Nami mutters, her tone incredibly pointed, before reaching for the bottle and taking a swig - then another, following Zoro's question about Arlong. ]

Can't you get these people to bring you anything stronger? [ Her eyes narrow, passing the bottle back before she looks at the fishmen assembled at the tables. ] Don't know, hope not. Either way, the sooner we get what we need and get out, the happier I'll be, so. [ Nami turns back to Zoro, raising her eyebrows at him as she tips her head towards the gambling tables, taking a few steps away and hoping he follows. She doesn't think these guys are related to the fishmen at Arlong Park, but it doesn't mean she wants to deal with them by herself, either. ]

[serio]

( her scowl and that glare goes unnoticed. sorta. sure, they'd parted ways in a less than ideal manner, with him not apologizing about what he'd said to her and her walking away and him not following after, but he figures nami glaring at him today is just standard orange-haired girl behavior. she's pretty feisty. like telling him off about the safe, scolding him about that leak on the ship, that argument they had after being captured by buggy, that other big fight about his duel to the death with mihawk -- it's a whole list. )

Mm. Happy. ( it's a good thing he's not getting anything stronger than a cocktail because he's already had a lot of drinks handed to him all day. zoro might just be a little buzzed. when she heads off to the gambling tables, this time, he follows along, sort of dutifully, a hand resting on his trusty sword as he moves to stand beside her. )

Game of chance. You feeling lucky or something? ( whale guy seems to have a thing for collecting information about people. he's not sure he likes that. )

[cartographie]

[ Nami takes her time getting to the roulette table, pulling her glasses out and settling them on her nose as they approach, her voice quiet when she speaks, trying to ensure only Zoro hears her. ]

I've watched for long enough. Eight, five, twenty-three, and twelve are what's hit the most at that table. You play one, I play another one, and we double our odds of getting it right so we can leave. [ Her gaze settles briefly on the bottle in Zoro's hand before she looks back at him, frowning over the rim of her glasses at him. ] I need a real drink.

[serio]

( eighty five, twenty and what? he gets distracted by nami's demand for another drink and he lets out a slight shake of his head, the sharp angles of his face looking all the more prominent under the glare of the lights as he sucks in a deep breath. ) Last I checked, I'm not your manservant. ( he sets the bottle on the edge of the table and is about to tell her to take it or leave it when the drink gets switched out by a random lady passing by, who puts her hands on both of their shoulders and wishes them luck, leaving behind three shots of whiskey.

before they can get into another petty argument about who gets the third shot, the table gets set and they're being asked if they understand the rules of the game. lose and the whale's going to want a precious memory of theirs. )

Oh, we'll win. ( confident. because hey, the money queen said she's been watching the game, right? )

rng gave me a loss, lol

[cartographie]

[ She's about to grab that bottle too before a woman bearing shots and well-wishes approves and almost knocks Nami off her groove of righteous indignation. Thankfully, where Zoro's concerned, that's a well that never seems to run dry. The shots take the heat out of it momentarily. After downing one of them, Nami weighs her odds of getting away with snatching the third when the whale speaks up, inviting them to place their bets.

Straightening up Nami takes a deep breath, settling a chip down on the square marked eight, longing for another drink as she waits for the wheel to get spun.

Fourteen says the whale managing to sound both passive and amused at the same time before he looks at Nami expectantly. Hating this on levels - because Zoro's seen her fail, and because now she'll have to provide a memory she'd deem as precious, she screws up her mouth for a moment before speaking in a rush. ] My mom taught me how to make pinwheels out of tangerine rinds.

not needing to depend on rng here cuz uh... oops

[serio]

( so much for winning. this is sort of reminding him of that drinking game they played back on the baratie, where they each tried to guess something about the other, except this time, he's getting information about her freely and all too easily. zoro pushes the remaining shot towards nami, letting her have it before he confidently puts his chip down on the square marked three. or wait, was it...

twenty three, the whale announces calmly as the wheel comes to a stop. well, fuck. too late now... zoro's keeping his gazed fixed on the damn wheel, refusing to glance over at the navigator because he knows he messed up there. unlike nami, it's gonna take him some time before he can come up with something to share here. somehow this feels like pulling teeth. he's tempted to get his blade out instead, his fingers hovering over the hilt of his sword as he feels everyone's eyes on him. )

What the hell am I supposed to say? ( is he asking for nami's help here? pretty much. )

[cartographie]

[ The shot helps, though she doesn't look at Zoro after taking it, keeping her gaze level on the roulette table instead, wincing when he puts his money on the wrong number - an expression that gets all the more withering after his bet's wasted and now the whale's looking his way.

When Zoro turns to face her again Nami finally meets his eye, brows raised skeptically at the question. ] How the hell am I supposed to know what's precious to you? Just - say something you care about being able to remember. Swords? Or...something. [ It's not like she has a wide reservoir of those to draw on, nor is she sure that that's exactly what the whale is looking for, but he'd seemed satisfied enough with her answer, so all Zoro has to do is give him the same. ]

don't tell him :' (

[downswing]

( Like any fine man who decisively earns, but notably does not utilise his salt, Lan Wangji heeds instruction.

She speaks it plainly, within the narrow jurisdiction of that which even a perfect neophyte, veteran of slow nictation and careful, feline tips of the head, can hope to achieve. Count to thirty. Watch, as the whale's webbed hand flinches and rolls over the great, chunky plate, spinning. Take inventory, when red glistens, stopped, under candle light, and what numbers win final position.

At first, he thinks it a matter of chance: there is no art to this, no skill, no periodicity. Only the whale, turning the... plate? 'Roulette.' In jagged rotations. Then, it strikes him: as with the sword, there is a logical undercurrent to where the little trinket lands: how the arc of the whale's wrist bone juts when he applies force to the turn, versus lazily swings it. The exact limitation of how far the wheel will go, what range that creates and the strength with which he tosses the missile — the ball — and how it ricochets after.

It emerges that war and the roulette table share a great deal in common. Lingered by the table, half sat and half looming, he murmurs: )

The wheel, spun a full circle and nearly 25 positions after every soft spin. Two soft spins of a full circle and five, eight positions in between.

( It... is not colour and number. But.

...ah. Wait. ) Is this... cheating?

[cartographie]

Cheating? What? [ It would be the guy in the flowing pale robes to have morality hard-baked into him, wouldn't it? Nami breathes a sigh, silently hoping this isn't indicative of how the rest of her luck is going to shape out that night. ] If it were cheating they wouldn't let anyone watch the board, would they? Cheating means we affect the outcome of what happens on the wheel - and I wish we were cheating, it'd be easier, but we– [ She gestures between the two of them. ] Are observing, and using those observations to our advantage.

[ It's not entirely bullshit either. Watching where the ball lands on the wheel for a while before placing a bet is just common sense as Nami sees it, though - maybe this guy takes a harder approach to his games of roulette. ]

Eleven, three, five, twenty. [ She looks at the man and nods before heading to the table to place her bet, on five - because she loves her crew. ]

[downswing]

( And would they? Truth leaves her mind like a midsummer's heat madness, at once obvious and unthinkable. In swordsmanship, men are allowed the study of their opponents, their betters, their friends, in the training grounds. It is understood, tolerated, encouraged that one will absorb every last granule of knowledge that yields itself, then make weapon of it.

So, too, then — this. Eleven, three, five, twenty. He calculates — which observations are to advantage? — and watches the quiet swell of the whale's thick wrist, and thinks, it is as nothing to it, to spin the wheel. It is no delicate creature, overcome by fatigue and a private lethargy, worn in by the troubles and toils of the day. It is not obliged to fall into a spinning pattern by the natural limitations of its strength and physiology.

It has it coming.

Perhaps this is how all men think of their marks, before they thieve from them. This dehumanizing, absently callous, ridiculing disdain. The girl proceeds, and Lan Wangji, braced for failure, follows — arm to his back.

The wheel spins. On and on and red and dark and red again and spinning — and it is red, like a gutting, red and it stops, red and —

The whale's voice is a molten, indifferent wail: ) Wait here for the manager.

( ...five. Five, but now a manager wants called. )

[cartographie]

[ Five's a hit but the flash of triumph Nami feels is short-lived when the whale at the roulette wheel seems to regard them both before stepping back from the table, claiming he needs to fetch the manager.

Oh for fuck's sakes. Nami's arms cross over her chest, and she favors the whale with a roll of her eyes, shaking her head errantly in dismissal. ] Fine. Whatever.

[ The portrait of the quintessential savvy gambler, it's not until the whale leaves that she snaps her head around to look at Wanji, lips pursed tight in a scowl. ] Just act casual. [ And if there's a little bit of vehemence peppering her words, Master Lan will have to excuse her, it's just that she's normally surrounded by enthusiastic idiots, and a girl can't be too careful. These fishmen don't look like Arlong's men, but she can imagine they'd be strong opponents anyway if someone pissed them off enough. ]

[downswing]

( Act... casual. In a sea of fish and folly and the roulette still performing a vague, indelicate spin, where the whale's twist-turned it.

Act casual, yet Lan Wangji suspects: there is no need for the whale to request a superior, not when information must surely reside with each of its purveyors. The octopus — who sulks and shifts and crawls forward, the lattice of its tentacles slipped behind it — cannot hope to deliver what his subordinate withholds. )

Should there be weapons, stay at my back.

( Since they are apparently trading instructions.

Yet here master Crassus has come, wet of his drip-drip a drool-like trail behind him, as he heaves and thrusts himself, collapsing onto the nearest chair that wobbles with a worn-in creak. Lan Wangji waits, patiently, penitently. And the octopus, at long last, speaks: )

So you won the hand, did you? Which one?

[cartographie]

[ Acting normal in a sea of fish and folly is what Nami sank years of her life into perfecting. Surely he can get it together for fifteen more minutes while she resolves this - or doesn't.

His remark about getting behind him if things get heated makes Nami smirk despite herself. So he's one of those. A good type to have around. These fishmen used to be pirates, but she likes to believe she can talk her way out of this long before anyone tries reaching for a weapon. Still, always good to have a backup plan, and while she'd like to avoid injury, she'll get her staff out and watch this guy's back if she has to.

Undaunted by the approach of the octopus, Nami cocks her head towards the abandoned roulette wheel, the ball still sitting pretty on five black. ] That one. Which, unless things are different here means the house pays up.

[downswing]

( An octopus slinks and stretches before them, tentacles slipping to tease the sketch of Lan Wangji's ankles on hard ground. He recoils, squinting, and kicks once at a roaming tentacle that seems neither hostile nor amorous, but distinctly, irritatingly inconvenient.

This the mark of the creature who knows — as all his attendants know — that he owns the room and all those who loiter within it. That they are permitted to breathe here entirely at his largesse.

Lan Wangji's hand lingers heavy on his sword's hilt — and master Crassus waves a tentacle at the woman beside him, having apparently identified the lone trickle of intelligence in the room and deigning to converse with it. Lan Wangji has felt this ignored in conversation before — three decades ago, when he barely reached his uncle's knee.

The octopus, then: ) Which one of you won, girlie? I'm hearin' was a mighty hand.

( And because Lan Wangji has never met a backhanded compliment he will not bite in the jugular, he intercedes, now: ) We did not cheat.

( The room erupts in laughter: now, who in the world had mentioned cheating? )

[cartographie]

[ This man is a nerd, which is almost as bad as ending up being paired with someone totally incompetent. There's a nanosecond where Nami's eyes blaze at Wangji before all the sharp edges in her gaze melt away, her posture relaxing as she turns back to the octopus, laughing lightly along with the rest of the room. ]

You'll have to excuse my secretary. The man's handwriting is impeccable and he never lets me forget an appointment, but– [ Nami smiles brightly at Crassus, lifting an errant hand, looking carefree as the wheels in her mind hammer out a cover story, preparing herself to field any questions tossed her way. ] He gets choked up in flashy, exciting places, like your fine establishment, and when I won, well... [ Surely the octopus must get her drift, right? She hopes. ]

Which, brings us back to your question and my winnings, which, I'm still owed. [ Nami leans on the edge of the table, her smile poised and utterly charming. ]

[reparo]

[She notices the pin first and foremost, and the fact that she doesn't know who this woman is. It is starting to become more common to meet new travellers while already immersed in fighting, or sleuthing. This will be the first time in a gambling den, however.

At least it isn't wizard's chess.] Oh - yes, that would make more sense. [She - the unknown lady - is trying to figure out how to cheat! Hermione sticks one hand inside her pocket to feel for her wand (it could be relatively easy, maybe, to spell the roulette to land on the right number, if it's going to miss by one - tops two). Just in case.

They do need information.]

Losers share a memory - wait, is this meant to be a memory you forget for losing, or are we talking about shared custody?

[cartographie]

Shared custody? [ Both an answer and a question. Like for a prisoner or something? That's how Nami contextualizes it, rolling her shoulders in a small shrug. ]

Do you want to try? I think I figured out a few numbers worth betting on. [ No telling if the house is going to take issue with her methods or not but - Nami would swear there aren't any signs telling her she can't - if her claims about it being a legitimate strategy don't work out, anyway.

Can't win if you don't play though, right? ]

[reparo]

[She sucks in a breath, holding it for a moment as she observes the roulette table, the fish-people (fish? people?) surrounding it. Rumour has it that the croupier running this table has good information, and -] You're right, we do need information.

[She'll find a memory to part with, if that's the case. A precious one. The look on her mother's face when she got the letter from Hogwarts, that pride and relief, that oh, everything makes sense about you now that had filled Hermione with joy.

(It's only fair. It's not as if her mother remembers that memory either.)]

Alright, let's do this. Tell me what to bet on. [Shoulders straight, brow furrowed with determination - she is ready to gamble.]

[cartographie]

Yeah, I'd love at least one clue about what the hell is going on here. [ No really, she's winging it - the idea of getting to hustle a couple of fishmen along the way is just a happy bonus.

The corner of Nami's lips quirk in a little smirk when Hermione agrees, and she gives her a little nod. ] Nine, nineteen, thirty, seventeen, and six.

[ Nami moves to make her way towards the table and pauses, giving her companion a quick once over - that initial trepidation didn't go unnoticed, and she's not starting this without having at least some idea of what she's working with. ]

Want me to go first?

[reparo]

[What she wouldn't give for a Felix Felicis right now. She is nervous, though resigned to this. There are prices to pay for knowledge, for intel, especially in Ephes. If she doesn't investigate - her, with her business that allows her access just about everywhere! - then what is her worth?

She can't just not do anything.] Ah - yes. Do you want my notes? Or - unless you're talking about just this city, then you might not want my note -

[Oh look at that, they're by the roulette table now. Time for talking about notes is for later.] By all means. I believe in you? [Gives her two thumbs up - for good luck. Then promptly sticks her hand in her pocket again to find her wand - just in case. Hermione will cheat, or help Nami cheat, if needed.]

left it open for you to wand at it if you like but feel free to have her lose too!

[cartographie]

[ As she settles against the roulette table, resting one hand on the edge while the other toys with a chip, surveying the board as she mentally runs through the list of numbers she shared with the other woman. ]

Six. [ The chip slides down to its proper square on the table and the wheel turns, though as it slows, it becomes apparent this turn isn't going to be Nami's to win. ]

[reparo]

[Hermione stands near, her side with the wand half hidden by Nami's body. She has full view of the roulette, and notices the way the ball bounces as it spins, landing a few over from the six.

She gasps, to draw attention to her face, her not altogether fake distress at having to part with memories, and with a wandless, wordless spell, she sends the little ball over the ridges, twice - to land on six.

And then, she applauds like some ditzy girl in a casino would.] Oh my gosh, amazing!!

[cartographie]

[ It's hard to keep a straight face as the brunette reacts to her win. Nami's worked enough rooms like this one over like a vulture plucking a gold-filled carcass clean to spot a con when she sees one, and though she can't explain how that ball skipped two places, she knows it was the other woman. ]

Not a bad way to start the night. [ Nami keeps her tone light like she's just showing off for a pretty girl at a gambling hall instead of covering for a strangely gifted accomplice.

The catfish agrees though it does so through ruefully pursed fish lips (gross). Turning its attention on Hermione before wafting a gracious fin in her direction. ] And will the young madam care to place a bet next round?