Cupid #1 Briefing

Donoma Berpal  4, 1, 5, 2, 2

Hanaan Adanir  1, 3, 5, 5, 4

Umut Miskatos 4, 4, 4, 3, 2

Pelipa Chauve 3, 3, 3, 5, 1

Umut frowned as he nursed his ale in the corner of the tavern. The lukewarm drink was bitter, but not in the pleasant way expected of beer. Well, he wasn’t here for the lacking food or drink. The seedy patrons were loud enough that Umut suspected horrific amounts of this swill were melting their brains. Soon enough, the reason he was here walked through the door. The cloak couldn’t disguise the feminine curves of the medium sized woman. What little of her hooded dark brown face was exposed drew attention to her, even from the soused and sotted clientèle. The delicate structure of her attractive face wasn’t easily hidden even by the hood.

 Her manner really isn’t helping, thought Umut, as he glared viciously at a too interested barfly. Umut’s jacket fell open, just enough to give a good glimpse of his pistol, while they stared at each other. The drunken man thought better of hassling the cloaked woman. She was delicately trying to walk through the crowded tavern towards Umut’s table. Her movements were clearly apologetic, even if Umut was certain that she was far too meek to even whisper apologies while bumping into the occasional drunkard. She doesn’t really have to speak at all, thought Umut cynically, not when her posture is constantly screaming apologies.

Umut stifled a laugh, it wouldn’t do to draw even more attention. Besides, it was a cruel thought. The woman’s ability to out-shoot everyone in the bar didn’t help her at all in social situations. He lazily pushed out her chair for her as she neared. She nodded as she sat, clearly uneasy. “Please do have a drink, Ms. Chauve. It’s on me.”, said Umut nodding at the other glass of ale on the table. He was treated to a lovely smile from the dark skinned woman as she picked up the ale. Even her grimace had a charm of its own, he thought,  as she struggled to swallow the swill. Her wide eyes and pursed lips showed how poorly she thought of this bar’s stock. Mentally, Umut congratulated her on not coughing or spitting it out.

“Please feel free to enjoy as many drinks as you wish. I do like my Agents to feel comfortable.”, said Umut cheerfully, schooling his face into the bland friendliness found on Handlers everywhere.  He calmly took a long pull of the despicable ale in his own glass, making sure to convey appreciation of the atrocious waste of barley. Pelipa Chauve, the lovely and exceedingly dangerous marksman, looked at him in unabashed surprise and horror. Such an expressive species, Umut thought to himself, while his Cupid asset looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“You’ve been doing  very well lately, Ms. Chauve. Your fieldwork on the Brezgeki border was excellent.”, said Umut, and he truly meant it. Pelipa had surpassed expectations, especially for such an inexperienced Agent. Umut held her gaze, making sure she recognized the sincere praise for what it was. The beaming happy smile on her dark toned face really did make the already disgusting tavern look even worse. Umut reminded himself of the usefulness of a place where the patrons were too drunk on rot-gut to care about shady business. The urge he often felt to burn the place to ash receded, though the smell of his unfinished ale reminded him that it would inevitably return.

He let the shared moment of happiness continue for a moment, feeling somewhat paternal. With a clearing of his throat, he spoke once more. “Why I’d go so far as to say that you deserve a good drink, Pelipa.”, said Umut, as he raised his glass, moving it towards her. He wiggled the glass, signaling that she should toast and drink with him. Part of him was surprised that he’d managed to say ‘good drink’ with a straight face. For her part, the Cupid was clearly deeply surprised. She also appeared somewhat concerned for his sanity. Umut waggled his upheld glass of ale insistently. She frowned back in clear distaste.

“I’m sorry, did you * say * something, Agent Chauve?”, asked Umut with a verbal prod. The Cupid sulked expressively, but didn’t meet his gaze. Instead she held up her mostly full glass, meeting his with a unenthusiastic toast. She gulped down the drink in unison with him, in displeasure. He mentally sighed as he sat down the glass and pulled a file from his valise. “I suppose we’ll talk about it later, Agent. After you’ve dealt with the * situation * in Kolpania. We’ll have to discuss it over drinks.”, said Umut. The Cupid remained silent.

“There’s a lovely place in Kolpania. Just like this one, in fact.”, said Umut. The moment extended as the Cupid sulked, still not speaking. Wordlessly he slid the details of the Kolpania mission across the table. The dark skinned Cupid wouldn’t meet his eye, and did her best to look engrossed in the file he’d passed to her.

Umut didn’t hide his sigh this time, and the Cupid flinched as she read the file. It was always something, thought the human to himself. The Houri were far too cheerful and trusting. The Apsara and Gandharva were far too reckless, and the Cupids… They’d rather drink barbaric swill than simply * vocally * admit how bad it was. As a Handler for the Eros Cult, Umut had a responsibility to keep his Agents informed and their skill sets sharply honed. But he was certain that Eros would prefer her children learn more general forms of competence. What good was it if you were the finest sniper in the province if you couldn’t speak up for yourself? The failure of his Agent to come out of her shell was only part of the cause for Umut’s disappointment. He’d actually been telling the truth about their meeting place in Kolpania. The beer there was just truly awful.