“Rebecca. The pleasure is all mine.” She bowed her head in an event of pure courtesy and divinity.
“A beautiful name for such a beautiful madam. Fitting.” Lucifer lowered his head more, hiding his face well. The less this woman had to recognize him, the less he had to worry about another of ‘Gracielo”s companions.
The dawning horse beside Rebecca neighed impatiently, and she sighed. “Very well then. It appears my horse has grown impatient, and seeing as you have something to attend to, I do believe I’ll take my leave.” Mounting on her horse, she looked down at waved gently at Lucifer and Kit, who seemed to be at a loss for words.
“Farewell, m’lady.” She rode off. Turning towards Kit, he spoke.
“Love, I must go. You seem slightly incapable of free movement and if you want your job done, I must perform it alone. If you will now excuse me.”
Kit still appeared to be quite addled by her recent encounter with the horselady. With a sigh, Lucifer leapt up to a overhanging pole and swung his feet, landing on top of it. Jumping towards the wall, he scrambled up by pushing his feet along cracked areas on the wall. Kit was a looker, there was no doubt about that, and her small stature would seem to throw Lucifer off but he was more attracted then repelled by it. Still, she was an overly-eager individual with slightly crossed psychological anomalies, almost alike odd reaction of loss of attention towards an object of focus during a critical time.
Beautiful, but clumsy. If anything, she was more attractive because of her adorable two left feet. But she was still just another one of his agents. Rebecca on the other hand..she seemed a perfectly adept combination of flair, corrosion, beauty and unwit, and she still carried and air of total loss about her, she never knew what she was supposed to do next. ‘Gracielo’ would probably enjoy her company greatly. Lucifer would have to keep a tab on that one.
Reaching the roof, he cracked his neck, and sprinted off, towards the brunt of the castle and township that lay around it. The outskirts he was currently in were boring and fairly uninformative; if he were to get any information on his suspect, he would have to inquire further towards the inside of the city. Possibly even have to breach the castle walls.
He grinned at the prospect of that challenge.
Along the wall of a back alley, a haggard man stumbled into the concrete floor of the city roads, splashing into a dirty puddle. Unable to move from alcohol poisoning, he lay there, twitching slightly, but with a smile on his face.
“Lucy..lucy..” He continued to utter this name as he lay trodden and wet on the blackened ground. Passerbys ignored his feeble attempts at speech, pertaining it to a loss of some whore wench named ‘Lucy’ and excessive drinking. A picture fell out of the man’s pocket and floated away on the puddle. It was picked up ,and the man felt a heavy pair of arms lift him out of the water and drag him away.
Complete darkness. He could not felt anything except for a stinging on his arms. They seemed to be behind him! How odd. His legs..where were they now? Ah, down by the legs of the chair.
A chair! He was siting down, yes, he felt pressure on his buttocks and was not falling, ergo, he must be sitting. Attempting to rub his eyes to remove the darkness, he found himself unable to move his arms. They were stuck behind him! How odd.
A flash of light. A small smack on his left cheek. Face, not butt. He looked up, bleary-eyed. A man with a strange ornament on his face covering his eyes, looked down upon him, frowning.
“Why do you frown, good man? It is a joyous-“
The soft metal sting of a blade whipping across the man’s face as his captor slashed him with a blade. Shaken, he drooped his head in pain.
“You don’t talk.” The captor had a velvet, creamy voice, hardened.
“I talk, you listen.”