Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
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year 5, quarter 3
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It has often been said that power corrupts. But it is perhaps equally important to realize that weakness, too, corrupts just as much; whereas power corrupts the few, weakness corrupts the many.
+ @blacksuit
+ 862 words
+ will put music here
+ the cornered rat will bite the cat
Secrecy was the name of this woman's particular game, but eludication was Vitreus Prudens's. A good investigator worth their salt had an obligation, a duty, to bring truth to the light, yet her continued resistance to even the most simplistic of social conditions proved her intentions were to keep the facts obscured in darkness. She was not here to make friends, but neither was Prudens; companionship was a weakness in their field of work.
But, this was a matter of professional integrity! She had hoped to use the importance of her case as pretext to keep its sensitivity under wraps, yet the safety of Sonora and her residents hung in the balance. Perhaps she was deathly afraid of having the fruits of her labor undermined?
The answer to this question was, ultimately, a simple one: the red-haired operative did not trust Prudens. Her posture spoke far more loudly than she ever did, although her commentary on the nature of truth proved more telling of her uncertainty as a field agent, despite some of it being halfway relevant. Truth was truth, regardless of whether it leaves a person's mouth or not—they merely had to observe for the proper clues and find the correct evidence, form the most likely chain of events from the given facts, and the puzzle would be solved.
Ah, but such things are not easy for everyone, Prudens had to remind himself, while he toiled away at his own chemical experiments. His observations were all but confirmed when she, having recognized the detective's mounting enthusiasm to help solve the case, relented to the idea of accepting his assistance.
Before he could congratulate her for utilizing common sense, however, the lady presented to him an important series of questions: did he favor a particular crime syndicate over the others, and, was he an undercover informant?
Without hesitation, Prudens met her steely gaze with his own. She had hoped to intimidate him, perhaps force a confession of unscrupulous interest in her assignment. Yet he would not waver, for he had done his best to display nothing less than candid resolve to prevent the gutters from running red with criminal blood.
His chin tilts upward, and his hawkish glare softens, as a realization strikes Prudens. He understood her far more clearly now. She did not take kindly to his enthusiasm. Evidently, where she comes from, investigators were supposed to be morose and humorless.
A pity, because it intiially appeared as if she actually enjoyed her work.
Still, she was correct; the heads of the criminal underworld were a capricious lot, and it would do them both no good to dally on the matter any further.
“If I were assisting them, would we be having this conversation?” succinctly asked Prudens, raising an eyebrow at her as if to question her own motives for being doubtful. “I could have attacked you. I could have left the room with aims to warn my supposed 'colleagues' of your presence. I could have swallowed a poison capsule to carry whatever secrets I keep stored inside my brain to the grave. You have proven that you take my words at face value, yet fail to examine the scope at which they could be applied. You look, yet you do not observe.” He then produced a sincere smile, hoping to diffuse her hostility before it congealed into something much worse. “Besides, I do this to safeguard the citizens of Sonora. Why, what good is it to me if I allow the likes of vagabonds to run roughshod over the people who need my help? I'd be out of work. Feel free to claim full credit for my efforts, as well, I do not mind.” A roundabout admission that he required no payment for his services—the case alone stimulated his sense of imagination, and he perceived a grand mystery lurking beneath the surface.
That alone was sufficient enough to consider his services unofficially hired.
Well, that, and he had been remarkably bored these past couple of days.
Certain that she would be satisfied with his understanding of the situation, and still determined to prove his worth if it was not the case, Prudens gleefully returned back to his own experiment, intent on achieving the results he so desired. Having added the blood to the beaker and watched as it faded into transparency, he took up another pipette and extracted a sample of a whitish powder from one of the phials before him, adding the substance to the mixture. Nothing yet.
Then, using a thin pair of tweezers, he added several colorless crystals from another phial into the beaker, and in that moment, a reaction took place, instantaneously transforming the seemingly clear water into a dull mahogany shade while a ruddy brown film began to settle at the bottom of the glass. His eyes glowed with delight. “Splendid! Ah, most spelnded! I do amaze myself!” shouted Prudens, clasping his hands together, then hastily scribbling down notes to take home for later analysis.
He was very much like a child having made a life-changing discovery. Surely, this eagerness to lend aid to a matter of more pressing quality would prove beneficial to her?
[attr="class","infoNotes"]Yikes. Not even a response back. Maybe less insults next time?
[attr="class","crashLyrics"]A Study in Sapphire, Pt. I
[attr="class","crashBody"] Their eyes met and she did not waver. There was silence between them and he was first to look away. Obviously he was thinking hard on something. What was the term? Paralysis by analysis? Whatever he was thinking, it was wasting precious time. And she could spare no time for potential posers. [break][break] She did not answer his first question. She felt like, yes, there was still a possibility for them to have this conversation. She was no stranger to elaborate ruses. Though, adding all the other possibilities was a nice touch for him, even if it ended in his mocking her. ‘You look, yet you don’t observe.’ A bit pretentious, wasn’t it? Certainly not a good impression if he wanted to sway her. Further, he told her to claim the credit for his work? It sounded like he had no trust in her abilities to investigate either and that he would do all the work. Another thing, Cissnei found her pride as a Turk not appreciating. [break][break] The only thing they seemed to agree on is to keep the Sonoran citizens safe. [break][break] The only issue is communication. Cissnei knew communication between partners was important. She had a feeling they weren’t going to see eye to eye, much less hear each other. This would hinder the investigation more than letting things run its course as is. [break][break] He returned to his work, as if unable to focus on their predicament. She wondered if, perhaps, he lived in his own world. As he distracted himself, she took the opportunity to simply slip past him and out the door. She didn’t bother with a formal goodbye, lest it bring attention to herself. She could hear his delight at his discovery just until the door shut behind her. She gave a relieved sigh. What a character. [break][break] Well, she wasn’t going to learn anything just sitting in there chatting with him. She began to make her way down the hallway, mulling over what her next destination would be.
It has often been said that power corrupts. But it is perhaps equally important to realize that weakness, too, corrupts just as much; whereas power corrupts the few, weakness corrupts the many.
+ @blacksuit
+ 700 words
+ will put music here
+ wah wah
Click.
Prudens looked up from his desk, blinking twice. Was it just him, or did it suddenly grow quiet in here?
A simple glance to the left shed context on the sudden decrease in ambiance, and it was there he had noticed a most obvious detail had taken precedence over his own experiment: the woman had vanished.
He blinked again, genuinely struggling to comprehend the abrupt change of scenery, yet the rest of the detective's face remained exceedingly distant from the scenario. Had he said something offensive?
Prudens hummed, leaning his chin down so that he could rest it against curled fingers. There was still the matter of discovering the hidden catalyst for this gang war, however it now appeared as if he was being pushed out of the action, seeing as he was no longer standing in her presence.
A theory crosses his mind. She was hoping to put the reins on his involvement, limit him in ways where he simply cannot be; clandestine control, that was her modus operandi. For all Prudens knew still, she might have very well been letting him chomp at the bit specifically to ensure he remained out of the picture anyway.
Her behavior clearly fits a few profiles, Prudens ruminated further, mentally scouring through volumes of different identities for the proper one. Black suit, feminine features, fiery hair, even temperament, quite certain of herself, ostensibly secretive, knowledgeable of Sonora's criminal dealings, likely to have connections———
———It dawns on him. That was her?
Amazed more at his own hindsight rather than the name that crossed his mind, Prudens could not help but chuckle. “Quite a mess you made for yourself, haven't you?” Had he actually knew what she looked like beforehand, he might have conducted himself with a little more restraint.
Maybe.
With nothing less than casual patience, he reached into his breast pocket and retrieved an old-fashioned flip-screen cellular phone, scrolling to his address list. It was easy to deduce her as the sort of person who would know the fellow that Prudens was about to call next, as she had also hinted at possessing knowledge of the Sikorsky cartel. Given how publicized their head capo is with their dealings, that meant she would have intelligence on several of their front establishments and shell companies, but she also needed a place to receive this data from discreetly, inconspicuously, which Prudens understood must be an area that does not draw attention to itself.
Only one location fit that description to the letter. And, fortunately for Prudens, he also happened to be a regular presence there.
The phone rings just twice, and the line connects. “Good afternoon, Mac. It's Vitreus Prudens,” the detective introduced with verbal poise. “I have a message to pass on to one of your patrons. Female, red hair, wears a black suit?”
“I don't hand out personal information regarding my customers, Prudens, and you know that.” Ah, right. The Sikorskys always were cautious about their confidentiality arrangements. Having anticipated this, however, it allowed Prudens to disregard the option of identifying her; he already knew who he was looking for, and the seediest sectors of Sonora were quite reliable with the spread of information these days.
“That's quite alright, Mac,” Prudens elaborated. “If you happen to see anyone fitting this description, please inform them that Vitreus Prudens sends his sincerest apologies?” Ambiguous instructions meant it would be all the easier for crooks and data couriers to deny accountability if they were ever questioned, given the statistical quantity of people who fit these particular attributes.
A hard, frustrated sigh rings out on the other side of the line. “You're serious right now?” Mm, yes. He was being serious, wasn't he?
“Most definitively,” clarified Prudens, before raising a finger as if to interject, “Oh, and I—” The line clicks and goes dead before he can finish his sentence. “—well, I was going to offer a gesture of reconciliation...” He looks at his phone with a raised eyebrow, then rolls his eyes ever-so-slightly. Seriously, what is today? “No one accepts apologies anymore, do they?”
Without another word, Vitreus Prudens merely snapped his device closed, returned it to his pocket, and went back to his work.
