ANONYMOUS TEXT ♙ OO4

[teashop]

Dear interested parties,

Are you suspicious? Do you feel lied to? Paranoid? Do you have questions? Do you demand answers?

Worry not. For a price, you may be the lucky receiver of a vial of purest Honesty. This singular liquid guarantees the intended recipient tell nothing but the very naked truth. With this glorious solution in hand, you may rest easy knowing that all of your questions will soon be answered - for better or for worse.

One fl oz per vial. One drop is equal to one hour of Honesty. Mixable with other drinks. Use wisely.

This transaction will be treated as an auction; the bidding will end in five days' time. Paper payment won't be accepted. Favours won't be accepted. I'll decide the highest bidder. Your purchase and payment will both be delivered to a place of my choosing.

Bidding begins now.

Comments

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[teashop]

[ it is a hollow question, but hatter does mean his answer, for whatever it's worth. ]

I won't spill your secrets.

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[wont]

[ A pause before her response. ]

Privacy, please.
If you've the means to offer it.

[ Further encryptions. Some people aboard are well versed in them. Unfortunately, Alayne's lessons are meager. ]

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[teashop]

[ so are hatter's; they don't exactly teach you how to do this stuff in wonderland. ]

You've already done as much as I know how to do.

[ there's always the locking option, but that's no guarantee to privacy from people looking to pry. ]

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[wont]

Then I make my offer in good faith,
and hope none will spy upon our conversation.

Twice you have offered elixirs to the ship,
once promising elation, once promising truth.
Surely your shelves are thickly stocked,
but can you promise death?

[ She speaks of poisons, the worst kind. That is what Alayne has to offer. ]

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[teashop]

[ hatter... stares at the message. for a good minute, at least. once the sweet girl he'd spoken to about jubjub birds and the fearsome jabberwock, alayne stone, now presenting him with a new side—a darker side, that offers death up to a faceless man in the hopes of obtaining the truth.

eventually, he sends a reply. ]

Excess of Euphoria could very well kill someone. Among other things.

[ excess of calm. excess of rage. excess of just about anything. emptying a vial of any one of those things into an oyster's drink—certain death, or at least, certain mental damage.

he has a gun. he won't need poison, if it comes to that, but it's something to keep in mind. ]

Why would you offer this to me?

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[wont]

[ Before making her offer she had asked Petyr: what price would you pay for another man's secrets. The answer she'd been given was in true Littlefinger fashion, a cruel measure between the worth of said man, the weight of his secrets and the lightness of one's own purse. When she had made mention of her silver hairnet, Petyr had simply smiled and said: ah, a death for a death.

Oh, how right he had been. ]

Because you are an apothecary, and a lady has little need for such things.

[ A lie. ]

Because most things in excess will kill a man,
but only the Strangler will wring the very breath from a man's bones.

[ A truth. ]

Because the truth is a precious, dangerous thing.
And the exchange seemed apt.

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[teashop]

[ thing is, it is an apt exchange. more than he'd like to admit.

sometimes he treats his business so cavalierly, and says one thing when he means another. feints this way, towards apathy, trips, falls into the dirt, into caring about things seemingly against his will. whatever he is, he's not a killer; whatever alayne is, he's not sure, but he'd much rather be the one whose hands carry that poison. ]

You're right about one thing. Truth is precious. And dangerous.

Tell me more about this 'Strangler' of yours.

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[wont]

[ And there, there is the rub. There is the how and why of the brilliant, terrible irony of this exchange. Two merchants looking to peddle their wares, neither truly wanting the other's bounty but both wary of the thought of it being in another's hands. In the end, it is not someone else's truth that Alayne chases after, but rather the securing (however meagerly) of her own. One less drop poured into her drink was a good thing indeed, one less phial — even better. ]

It is a rare venom made of the leaves from an even rarer plant.
The manner of the Strangler's distillation is a secret thing,
the knowledge of which is held only by the great maesters of the Citadel as well as the alchemists of Lys.

One crystal, small and as purple and as dark as fat amethyst, is enough to lay any man low.
Dissolved into drink, it will do its work quickly.
Far too quickly for the hope of aid to see itself through.

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[teashop]

[ back home, hatter had provided for the less lucky inhabitants of wonderland; the resistance laid low by the queen's tyrannical empire, the sick and the needy, the broken underground community he'd so long watched suffer. he'd played both sides of the field, sold tea for supplies, stole from the rich to feed the poor. survived.

during his last auction, he'd given john watson a separate vial of euphoria for his ailing friend, in the hopes that it might help him back from whatever dark place he'd fallen prey to. and he'd given it genuinely, kept it under the radar, asked watson not to tell anyone—all because he let himself feel for a nameless sick man, let himself care again, falling back into his role in wonderland (or perhaps never leaving it, and only pretending he had.)

this isn't like that—alayne is neither sick nor nameless—but it's the second time he's about to give a second vial away in the name of compassion. it is, of course, done his own interests. this is a two-way street, after all. but it's also done in alayne's—that she might receive what she's apparently willing to trade death for. ]

Well then. Have to say you've caught my interest.

[ a moment... and then he caves completely. ]

I'll make the trade.

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30%

[wont]

[ Whatever satisfaction could be gleaned from winning such an elusive prize is stifled by the prize itself and its weighty cost. Alayne knows that Petyr will be proud of her — that he will burnish her with both praise and affection for proving so clever and convincing — but her silver hairnet will lose another gem in days to come. Where that gem will end up, whose cup will be tainted — those are questions to which Alayne hopes to never learn the answers. (There is a benefit to knowing certain truths, but there is a price as well.)

Her hands tremble as she taps out her response. (The deed is done, there is no manner of recourse.) ]

And how is a trade made with a merchant without face or name?

text; PRIVATE | encrypted 30% ( 1 / 2 )

[teashop]

[ he doesn't go back on his word, once he's promised it. but it's promising it that's the difficult thing. ]

Like this.

Go to locker 004 » 004, and bring your bid. You'll find further instructions there.

action; ( 2 / 2 )

[teashop]

[ And, true to his word, there's a note stuck inside of the door of locker 004 » 004—one that reads:

Leave your bid here. Close the door.
Go to locker # oo5 / oo1, you'll find what you ordered.

Keep this as quiet as you can.
Enjoy.

—David

Inside the specified locker, there will be small glass vial filled to the brim with clear liquid, labeled HONESTY in the same scratchy handwriting used for the notes.

Use wisely. ]